Hotline
by SamiWammy
Summary: Hello : ) This is a series of one-shots based around Carol and Daryl. I am taking requests so content will vary from smut to emotional romance, horror, humor, you name it! If you want to see it happen, just send a PM. I'm a Caryl shipper through and through and I can't wait to see all the ideas you guys have for our favorite couple. Enjoy! 1st chapter is smut!
1. Taunt

**Hello! Thanks for checking out my new story! For those of you who have read **_**Tethered**_**, please be warned, this is a definite change of pace lol! Whereas **_**Tethered**_** is all about the build-up of tension, Hotline dives right into the action, as you'll see in a second! Hotline will feature some of my ideas but I will gladly accept requests. I'm very new to the whole saucy/smut thing so hopefully you all enjoy this first chapter. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head but I would be happy to entertain your requests through pm's. I've read a ton of great Caryl stories on this site so I know you guys have some good ideas : ) All that being said, this chapter is pure smut! I have no desire to offend anyone so if you don't want to see Daryl and Carol getting wild, then please don't read! I wanted to kick the series off with something playful, so I hope you have fun with it : ) This would be them, after they've gotten comfortable with each other, physically, and find a stolen afternoon ; )**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead….and that's probably for the best lol**

**Chapter 1:** **Taunt**

"And _here_…" Carol grunted as she sank back down onto his shaft. She rocked her hips before lifting them suddenly and slamming down onto him again. "I thought you were gonna fuck me."

Daryl growled, his fingers pressing hard into her hips. He held her against him as he bucked up into her. "What you think this is then?" He bit his lip and bucked again, harder this time, making her groan.

She responded in kind, smirking down at him as she clawed his chest. She rocked back and forth, riding his cock. "I _think_…" she felt a flush spread across her face as he continued to throb inside her. "That you're all _talk_…" She was breathing hard, riding him, wanting to keep their rhythm strong.

"Oh yeah?" He said as he sat up suddenly, his arms circling her waist. The action drove him deeper insider her and she stifled a scream as she wrapped her legs around him. He kissed her neck, smiling against her skin. "How 'bout now?" He asked, continuing to move with her, pushing himself up into her center.

"You can do better," she breathed, the words lost in his hair as she clung to him. Carol bit her lip hard, her arms winding around his neck. He responded by biting down on her shoulder, his hands sliding from her hips to her ass where he gripped the tender flesh hard. He squeezed her ass, controlling their pace. She clamped one hand over her mouth and held her moans back, refusing to give in. He was bucking up into her core as she sat in his lap…her walls clenching around him with each thrust. A delicious tingle was building in her center and Carol had to speak to distract herself. "You're…holding…._back_…" her words came out quickly, between thrusts, and she pulled back to look him in the eye.

Panting, Daryl stared at her. He squeezed her ass harder, kneading the flesh as he stilled himself. His hips stopped jerking and their rhythm died. Carol was suffering with him still inside her. She needed motion…she needed the length of him sliding into her depths, pushing her to her limit…but he had stopped. Her legs tightened around his waist and she fought the urge to ride him. His shaft was still stiff, rigid inside her.

Daryl tore his eyes from hers and stared down between them to where they were joined. Carol chewed her lip, waiting. Slowly, he lifted his chin, his eyes roaming her body and lingering on her breasts. Grunting, he grabbed them…the flesh soft, warm in his palms. Smirking, he began to squeeze and massage her, his shaft twitching inside her. Carol closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his strong hands on her body. He ducked his head and kissed the space between her breasts…he could taste salt on her skin as his tongue slid up slowly between the two soft swells. Carol threw her head back, offering herself up to him. He dragged the tip of his tongue up between her breasts and dipped it into the well of her throat. Carol couldn't help it, she rocked her hips, needing him to move with her.

Daryl was sucking the skin at the base of her neck. "Still think I'm holdin' back?" he asked as he squeezed both breasts hard. His hips bucked, responding to her movements.

Carol licked her lips and leaned in close, her mouth at his ear. "I thought you were gonna make me _scream_." she whispered, nipping at his earlobe.

He pulled back then, staring at her. His eyes were blue slits, sweaty locks of hair were plastered to his brow. "Woman; you couldn't handle it…" he breathed, licking his bottom lip.

She stared right back, the corner of her mouth quirking up in the hint of a smile. "Try me."

Daryl smirked at her and before she could breathe, he leaned forward, pushing Carol onto her back. He braced himself on his elbows and jerked his hips, giving her a strong thrust. She moaned softly, arching her back…her grip on his neck tightening. Her legs were still locked around him.

"Ya like that?" He grunted, his forehead resting against hers as he continued to work her.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes….tiny gasps escaping her each time his hips collided with hers. She tangled her fingers in his hair, playing as she smiled at him. "I've….had….._better_…." she nearly choked on the last word, his cock reaching a place inside her that made Carol's whole body tense.

Daryl's hands were balling into fists, gripping the sheet beneath them. He lunged for her neck, biting her, his mouth sucking hard….the speed of his thrusts increasing. Carol pulled a sharp breath into her lungs and tugged desperately at his hair. He was sucking her neck with such intensity that the sensation shot straight to her core. As they lay tangled on the bed, and Daryl continued to force himself into her, a single word slipped from between Carol's lips.. "_God_…"

Daryl licked the now purple mark on her neck before pushing himself up, his palms flat on the bed. He smiled down at her; she was writhing beneath him…her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat…she was glowing. "I think you're full of _shit_…" he said; the words came out as a breathy laugh while his hips maintained their rhythm.

Carol was gnawing her lip as she bucked her hips, tilting up for him, taking him deeper. "What?" she grunted, rocking against him.

Daryl clawed the sheets as he slammed himself into her core, making her whimper. "Ya ain't never had it like this…." he was sliding into her, again and again…the motion between their hips becoming smooth, fluid. He'd made sure to get her good and wet, make her slick, stretch the muscles. He sighed, closing his eyes as he pushed himself into the soft, welcoming heat of her core….her body swallowing him, sucking him…keeping him inside. "Ya _aint_…" he paused, clenching his teeth as her walls gripped him. "ever had _better_…" He slipped free before bucking back into her, their bodies gliding against each other. "Now shut your damn mouth and _spread your legs_."

Carol swallowed hard, the sensations overwhelming her. She let her hands slide down his sweaty back, her nails raking over the damp skin. "Mmmm," she moaned behind closed lips, her body arching up again…her skin slick on his. She smirked, her eyes closed in ecstasy as her nails dug into his flesh, "_Make me_," she whispered.

Without hesitation, Daryl sat up, easing back onto his calves. He reached around to his back and grabbed her ankles that were still locked together. Grunting, he pried her legs apart…he ran his hands along her calves, sliding up to her knees. Carol shivered when she felt his thick fingers pressing into the backs of her knees…forcing her legs to spread wider. Their bodies were still connected and Daryl could feel her walls stretching, opening….he hissed as he rocked his hips, sliding deeper, further into her center. A sharp, painful cry burst from Carol's lips but Daryl knew better. He didn't stop and he didn't slow down….she wanted it. Her body was twisting underneath him, every muscle tensing, making her slam her eyes shut. "Oh, ya done talkin' now?" He grunted, thrusting hard, making her body jerk. "Run outta shit to say?" he continued bucking his hips into hers.

Carol couldn't help the smile on her lips. Her toes curled each time he sank into her center. She was getting lost in the delicious motion of their hips; the back and forth…pushing and pulling…she knew, as the ache continued to build and intensify between her legs, that she still wasn't used to him….that she'd never get used to him. He was too much, too _big_ for her…the size of him stretching her until she hurt…but she wanted it…to feel full, to keep every last inch of him trapped inside her. As he slammed into her, she felt herself growing weak with pleasure…his cock hitting a spot inside her that made her tremble…her walls began contracting around him.

"_Sonofabitch_!" he snarled as he felt her tighten.

"What's….wrong?" Carol panted beneath him, the smirk still on her lips.

He grunted, his hand moving suddenly to grip the back of her thigh. He squeezed the soft flesh, his eyes locked on hers. His chest was heaving as he stared at her. The look in his eyes made her walls contract again. When her muscles gripped him, she saw him clench his teeth…his hold on her thigh growing painful. Daryl fought to maintain control….he tried not to think about the way his cock was throbbing…surrounded by all of that warm, wet, stifling heat….the incredible pressure…the friction they'd created… Mastering himself, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. "Ain't nothin' wrong," he said, giving her a quick thrust. "Just ain't done with ya yet."

Carol gasped at the feel of him pushing through her already trembling core. "You're….not?" she breathed, sweat beading at her temples.

Daryl answered with another forceful jerk of his hips, making her groan. "Think I don't feel that?" He asked between ragged breaths.

Carol propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him questioningly.

He looked down, staring at the place where their bodies were joined. Even as he stared, he could feel her insides clinging to him. When he lifted his head and refocused on her, his tongue darted out over his dry lips. "I feel it," he said, his voice like gravel. He released her legs and moved down to hover over her again, his hips still thrusting slowly. He dipped his head lower to nip at her neck and she hissed. With his mouth at her ear, he whispered, "I feel _everything_….feel ya gettin' tighter." He bit her earlobe gently, holding it between his teeth. "Ya squeeze me every time ya breathe in."

All Carol could do was arch her back and wind her arms around his neck, keeping him against her.

"I know you're close," he growled softly. Bracing himself on his elbows, the hunter gave a strong thrust. He focused on the motion of his hips, making sure he pushed, reaching a deeper place inside her. "I feel _every little thing_ that pussy does," he whispered into the crook of her neck, his breath warm on her skin. "But ya can't come yet…" he drug his tongue along her jaw line.

"_Daryl_," she pleaded, her eyes slammed shut as her nails clawed his back.

"I ain't finished with you." He ground his hips into hers, making her wrap her legs around him. "You're gonna be screamin' when ya come."

Carol was fighting for every breath now. "_Daryl_….I….._can't_….i'm going to….."

"Not _yet_," he snapped, pulling from her. "Not till I say…"

When he slipped free, Carol moaned. Her nails dug fiercely into his shoulders as if she could keep him with her. "Don't…._go_….not _now_….I need you…" she begged.

Daryl sat back on his calves again, staring at her while he stroked his cock. "Turn around," he said. "On your hands 'n knees."

Carol looked up at him as she reached down between her legs to tease her clit. She saw the speed of his hand increase on his cock.

"I ain't gonna tell ya _twice_," he growled, his voice low.

Mesmerized by the look on his face, Carol obeyed. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto all fours. Licking her lips, she glanced over her shoulder at him…he was panting, strands of damp hair hanging in his face as he worked his shaft. Carol's mouth grew dry as she watched him. His cock was slick, shining with her wetness….his hand gripping it tight…sliding up and down, moving faster and faster as he stared at her pussy. She swallowed hard, attempting to calm herself. "Seems like you've got a handle on things…" she sighed, her eyes on his cock. "I don't think you even need this." Smirking, Carol lowered half of her body, the side of her face coming to rest against the bed while she kept her ass up, her pussy exposed.

Daryl's free hand shot out, grabbing her ass and massaging the bare flesh. Carol moaned into the bedspread, her walls opening for him. "Wanna talk about need?" He asked between strained breaths. He released his cock and squeezed her ass with both hands. "I know what ya need." Grunting, he pushed himself inside her, his thick cock filling her, forcing its way inside…into her center. He kept pushing, pulsing as her walls hugged every solid inch of him. "Fuckin' _Christ_!" he snarled viciously as he pulled back and pushed forward, making her body jerk.

"God…_dammitt_!" Carol yelled into the sheets, her eyes shut tight.

"_C'mon_!" He grunted. His hands slid from her ass to her hips, holding her in place as he fucked her. He was breathing harder now, the sensations becoming too much for him.

Sweat was slipping down between Carol's breasts as the movements rocked her body. "What….do you…._want_?" She gasped between thrusts.

Daryl rammed his hips hard against her ass. "_More_…" he growled, his fingers digging in hard, bruising her hips.

Carol could hardly swallow as she pushed back against him. "I…can't…give you…._more_…" she whimpered, her eyes still closed.

"Ya _can_!" he yelled down at her as his cock slid in and out of her core.

"_God_!" She was groaning into the bedspread. Carol was overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside her…by the ferocity of his movements…the pleasure he was bringing her to. Each jerk of his hips was maddening. Carol began to think he couldn't possibly get deep enough; she wanted more of him…wanted him to push her until she couldn't move…until she couldn't see or think straight…until she was numb. Possessed by her need, Carol spread her legs further apart….Daryl's rhythm hadn't slowed so the second he rammed forward, he slid in further, suddenly hitting the deepest part of her core. Carol's fists were clenching the sheets when she felt him reach that spot…the head of his cock pushing up into her cervix, making her scream. It was as if he'd found her center, the absolute source of every ounce of her tension….the essence of her pleasure…and he'd forced himself into it, thick, strong, filling every space. Carol was still screaming as her walls began to spasm and convulse…her muscles fluttering along the length of his still throbbing shaft. Her eyes were dreamy, half-open as she felt her release, hot and wet, coating his cock. Her clit was throbbing while she rocked her hips, savoring the incredible vibrations in her core.

"_Fuck_!" Daryl yelled as he felt her come hard, her muscles trembling and quivering around him. "I ain't done woman; _I'm gonna tear that fuckin' pussy apart_!" His teeth were clenched as he increased his speed, thrusting wildly into her core. Still gripping her hips, Daryl stared up at the ceiling with parted lips and half-closed eyes. "Fuck…fuck…fuck….Christ…_fuck_….jesus…" The words were tripping of the end of his tongue as he fucked her, each thrust into her wet heat driving him closer to the edge.

Below him, Carol was whimpering, muffled words passing her lips each time he slid inside. "God….god….god….god…god…._please_….yes…..please…._fuck_….Daryl….yes….fuck….fuck…..oh my….god!" She cried. Each jerk of his hips caused more wetness to seep from her… When she thought she might lose her mind, Carol felt him slam into her so hard that tears welled at the corners of her eyes. His body had gone rigid…all movement suddenly stopping.

With that final, desperate push, Daryl watched his cock slip into her wet, pussy…her body swallowing him whole….her soft walls squeezing every last inch of him, massaging his swollen shaft until he couldn't take it and his dick jerked, once, twice, before his own orgasm rushed forward, filling her core. His nails were digging into the skin at her hips as he stared open-mouthed at the ceiling and let his cock finish throbbing inside her. The sound of their labored breathing filled the room and Daryl groaned as her walls continued to contract, coaxing every last ounce of his pleasure from him. "_Fuck_…" he breathed as he pulled himself from her.

Carol whimpered at the loss.

Daryl collapsed onto his back and Carol forced herself to turn around and lie on her stomach beside him. As they lay there, the sweat quickly drying on their exhausted bodies, Daryl chuckled.

"What?" Carol asked, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips.

"Got quite a mouth on ya don't ya?" He asked, glancing at her.

Carol folded her arms under her chin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Daryl rolled onto his side to face her. "Your ass is loud," he smirked. "Told ya you'd be screamin' when ya come."

Her eyes narrowed as she reached out and grabbed his hair pulling him towards her. He snaked one arm around her middle as she pressed herself against him and caught his lower lip between her teeth. She began kissing him and brought one leg up, curling it around his waist. The action brought their bodies closer together and Daryl moaned as her tongue dipped into his mouth, her bare breasts pressed to his chest. Her lips were so soft against his. Her mouth was sweet, wet. Her hands were still in his hair, tugging, urging him to deepen the kiss. Daryl let his tongue glide against hers and his hand slid from her waist to her ass, squeezing her, pressing her pelvis against his. The heat was already building between them again and Daryl felt his shaft growing hard. Carol gasped into the kiss as she felt Daryl's swollen cock brushing her clit. She leaned her head back, letting him bite and suck her neck, his tongue lapping at the salty skin.

"Bet you can't get me to come like that twice in a row," Carol teased. She smiled as he buried his head between her breasts, his tongue swirling slowly around her nipples.

"You 'n that damn mouth…" Daryl grinned as he gripped her ass and bucked his hips into hers.

Carol stared at him innocently. "As I recall, you seem to like my mouth…it likes you." she said softly.

Daryl moved so he was on top of her. "Think I'm gonna have to shut it for ya." He growled playfully. He pried her legs apart with his hips and she opened up for him willingly.

"Then do it," Carol whispered as she arched her back, tilting her pussy up for him, her entrance hitting the tip of his dripping cock.

Daryl wasted no time, he grunted and pushed hard, slipping right back into her wet core.

"God…yes!" Carol groaned as she wrapped her weak legs around him. "I need you inside me…Daryl…." she stared up at him as he slowly began to thrust.

"What?" He growled.

"I need you to fuck me…harder this time…fuck me," she sat up, her nails digging sharply into his shoulders as she stared into his eyes. "Until I can't move."

Daryl felt his cock get harder inside her. He pushed her back onto the bed and began to thrust violently in and out of her pussy.

"Yes!" She screamed and writhed beneath him, "Like _that_…"

Tangled together, sweating and breathing, Daryl and Carol allowed themselves to give in…to every selfish want….every base hunger. Their bodies were throbbing, glowing, aching…their minds reeling…the sheets beneath them growing wet, stained with sweat and sex…but neither cared. Teeth sank into flesh, nails left deep lines on skin and the two of them gave in.

**How was it? This was my first smutty one-shot! I know it's very different from**_** Tethered**_**…but I'd like to think, that after they'd been together for a while, they'd reach a point where they could be playful and push each other like this : ) If there's something you'd like to see in this series (funny, sad, scary, serious, saucy) send me a pm! I can't promise I'll be able to make every request happen (I'm a softy and there might be certain sad things that I just don't have the strength to write) but I'll certainly try! If you want to see them back on the farm, the quarry, prison…someplace new, let me know! And if you liked this first chapter, please don't be afraid to tell me why in the reviews : ) xoxo -Sami **


	2. Truth

**Hey guys! I'm psyched to be diving into requests! Granted, this is a hard left turn from the playful smut in the last chapter, but I still hope you'll enjoy it. As promised, I'm doing my best to make these requests happen. Vickih asked me to write about Carol confessing to Daryl. She wanted me to describe the moment when Carol finally breaks down and tells someone about what happened to the girls…back in the grove. This was difficult for me, but I think It's an important moment and it shows how deeply Daryl and Carol care for one another. I'm trying to stay true to the characters in the show, so the Carol and Daryl in this scene have not had any prior romantic involvement.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, but I sure could write the s #$ out of that show! **

**Chapter 2: Truth**

The sun was sinking slowly, bathing the city in eerie, twisted shadows. The last rays of glowing, orange light were slipping away…disappearing down dark alleys, the bright glare streaking across cracked windows. Carol reached up and used her sleeve to wipe layers of dust and grime from the glass. Her thin fingers were resting lightly on the window ledge as she stared out at a broken world. A heavy sigh escaped her, making her shoulders slump. She knew they'd been fortunate to stumble across the deserted office building…the same one she'd stayed in when Rick exiled her. As she stood near the window, Carol couldn't help but to think back to the nights she'd spent there…alone, curled on a small sofa….her knife clutched tightly in her hand as she tried desperately to sleep. She bowed her head as the memories flickered behind her eyes…

Daryl didn't say anything as he walked to the window and stood just a few feet from her. His eyes narrowed while he watched the sun dip below the horizon. With one hand in his pocket and the other gripping the strap of his bow, the hunter took in the scenery. The once thriving city was dead…dry…burned out. Corpses and garbage filled the streets. Crushed glass glittered like sugar crystals on the black asphalt. As he continued to stare out at the wreckage, Daryl was finding it difficult to remember what Atlanta had been like before the turn. He eyed the skyscrapers…banks, offices…_hospitals_…their facades littered with broken windows, like open mouths with jagged teeth…from a distance, they seemed to be screaming. As the sun dragged it's light away, a dark world grew darker, and Daryl glanced at the woman who stood beside him.

"Hey," he growled softly, stirring her from her thoughts.

She reached up, rubbing the back of her neck as another sigh escaped her.

"You alright?" he asked, knowing how foolish the question must sound.

_Since when have any of us been alright?_

But he still felt the need to ask, if only out of habit.

She rapped her knuckles lightly on the window ledge, her eyes still fixed on the devastation outside.

"It's just strange," she said, her voice soft…tired. "When I was here before…it was hard seeing the city like this. Still is. When everything fell apart…people were crawling over each other to get out…just didn't think I'd be coming back here."

Daryl answered with a slow nod. "Me neither."

Carol folded her arms across her chest and took a step away from the window. "You really think we're gonna find her?"

The hunter hefted the bow strap on his shoulder and bowed his head. He considered his words. When he finally felt that he had the strength to meet her gaze, he lifted his chin. "You found us…" he said, gnawing his lower lip.

Carol's lips parted but she couldn't speak. She was lost in her memories…her chest tightened as she thought back to her time at Termnius…the way it felt when she walked into the storage room and saw Daryl's bow sitting amongst all the belongings of the victims who had gone before him. The room had been filled with so many things…children's toys, weapons, clothing, personal effects…there must have been hundreds…but all that mattered was the _bow_…the familiar arrows fletched with bright green feathers. The blood had frozen in her veins and air left her lungs as she moved towards the table. She'd reached out, her hand shaking as her fingers curled carefully around the stock. It had taken all her strength to heft the weapon onto her shoulder and keep going. The only thing that drove her was the hope that he might still be alive…_somewhere_. She had to believe that there was a chance… It wasn't luck, and it wasn't prayer that lead her to her group…it was ruthless determination and perseverance. She'd witnessed the attack on the prison and knew that the others must've fled. Despite her crimes, Carol knew that she couldn't stop until she reunited with the people who'd taken her in so long ago. She supposed that if she'd managed to find them…to _help_ them…then she and Daryl could find Beth. Whether or not the girl would still be alive was another matter.

Her eyes were growing warm and she rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. "You're right," she whispered. "I found you. We can find Beth." She turned, moving away from the window. They'd found a small break-room with two cots pushed against the wall. Carol walked to the cot that was closest and slumped down, her hands going to her hair as she bowed her head. She blew out a breath and ran her fingers slowly through her hair. "We can head back out as soon as the sun's up." she said.

Daryl could see that there was something weighing on her mind…something heavier than their search for Beth. She'd been quiet since Terminus. The hunter almost felt as though they'd traded roles. She'd withdrawn into herself, keeping the others out, while he'd taken to seeking her out…prodding her for answers that she wouldn't give. She didn't posses the same hostility that he'd had during their time on the farm…she'd never lashed out at him the way he'd screamed at her beneath the tree, after Sophia's death…but she was still guarded. So much so that Daryl was growing concerned. He felt that some part of her had been lost…damaged after she left the prison. He didn't know what caused the change…or how to help her, but he wasn't going to let the woman he knew disappear. Drawing on what little strength the day had left him with, he made his way across the small room and sat down on the edge of the second cot. They stared, in silence, at opposite walls…their backs facing each other.

Sighing, he shrugged off his bow, setting it on the floor. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the cot as nervousness began to get the best of him. He knew that he needed to say something, but he'd already tried so many times…and she always ended the conversation before it could even begin. She'd turn away from him, sighing, a shadow passing over her features. She'd retreat behind the safety of the walls she'd created for herself, leaving him on the outside with so many unanswered questions. With his head bowed, and his eyes on the dirty floor, Daryl took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Carol…" he said, his voice low.

She stiffened, her heart rate speeding up. Her elbows were resting on her knees as she began to wring her hands. "What?" she asked softly, without looking back at him.

Daryl licked his dry lips and tried to decide on how to start. "Ya ain't been the same…" he paused, waiting for her to say something…to stop him the way she always did.

"What do you mean?" she asked softly, feigning ignorance. She knew exactly what he meant. He'd been trying to get an answer out of her for days.

"Since Terminus," he growled under his breath.

Carol bowed her head, her eyes closing as a warm sigh passed her lips.

"I get it." he said, nodding. "Ya don't wanna talk…but I think ya should."

"And why's that?" she asked, running a hand over her tired face.

Daryl sighed in frustration, the muscles in his arms tensing. "Because ya can't keep goin' like this…keepin' all of us in the dark. Ya ain't alone no more…ya need to quit actin' like it."

She lifted her chin and stared at the ceiling, as if an answer was waiting for her there. "Guess I just don't think it's gonna do any good to talk about it…what happened out there…it's over and I'm trying to put it behind me."

The hunter growled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Don't look like it's workin'."

She bowed her head again, fingers combing through her mussed hair. After several seconds of silence, she spoke. "Why do you need to know? Why does it matter?"

Daryl was still staring hard at her back, his brows knitting together. "Because you're one of us…ya always have been. 'N I ain't gonna sit here, watchin' this eat at ya 'till ya turn into someone else."

Carol's hands were clasped behind her neck as she struggled to form a response. Her eyes were getting warm again. What Daryl didn't know was that she'd already become someone else. She supposed that had been true the moment she drove the pickaxe through Ed's skull. The naïve, frail woman from the quarry was gone. A part of her had died that day on the farm, when Sophia's corpse stumbled out of the barn. It was as if the world they lived in….the harsh, ugly reality…it was slowly stripping her of her humanity. Circumstance and necessity had transformed her into a survivor…she was jaded. She didn't question things anymore, she simply acted. If she had to kill, she killed. It was the only reason she'd lasted this long…or so she thought. She knew that she'd done terrible things…unforgiveable things, and she was afraid that there wasn't a place for someone like her in Rick's group…at least not anymore. They'd all been so grateful when she helped them escape Terminus…when she'd reunited Rick with his daughter, and Tyreese with his sister…but it didn't matter. She still felt like an outsider. Carol didn't think she should be around other people…

_I don't deserve to be with them…._

The somber realization made her think of Lizzie.

_Sometimes isolation is the only answer._

Carol's eyes slammed shut and her jaw clenched.

_We never should've left her alone with Mikka….with Judith…_

An angry tear was forming at the corner of her eye, and she sniffed quickly, trying to keep herself in check. Daryl must've heard her because he was speaking again.

"Carol…you hearin' me? Ain't like ya got a whole lotta choice in the matter. We're stuck here for the night…we ain't goin' nowhere. You really gonna sit there 'n not say anythin' all night?" He paused, taking a moment to scuff his boot lightly against the floor. "Ya used to be the one wantin' to talk…" He turned away, refocusing on the wall.

The hot tear slipped from the corner of her eye, blazing a trail down her face. Feeling trapped and restless in the small room, Carol stood quickly and stalked back to the window where her fingers gripped the ledge. She was holding on so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her shoulders tensed and her entire frame seemed to vibrate with anger, but she wouldn't look back at him.

Even from his spot on the opposite end of the room, he could feel the rage and hurt pouring off of her. He considered getting up…following her, but he sensed that she needed space. He would allow her that one courtesy if it meant she'd talk. So Daryl waited anxiously for her to say something, _anything_. His toes were curling in his boots.

Carol stared out at the city that was now blanketed in darkness, but didn't seem to see it. She was looking past the rubble…into her own hellish memories. Her face grew pale as she remembered the horrible brightness of the blood on Lizzie's hands…_there was so much_. It had stained the small blanket the girls were sitting on…seeping into the grass…the thick drops seemed to fall slowly from the end of Lizzie's knife…and there were small scarlet flecks on the girl's cheeks…her _neck_. Carol knew, no matter how she tried, she'd never rid herself of the image…she'd never forget the smile on Lizzie's face…the look of excitement as the disturbed girl explained what she'd done. Trembling with rage, Carol clawed at the window ledge and bit out the words she'd been too afraid to say…"_It's my fault_…" Another hot tear rolled down her face.

Daryl turned on the cot and stared at her back. He could see her body silhouetted in moonlight that was beginning to spill in through the window. "What's your fault?" he asked, his voice hushed.

Carol sniffed and gnawed her lip. The city seemed to fade, and suddenly it was her own reflection staring back at her in the grimy window pane. Her eyes were tired and the tear tracks on her cheeks were shining. She tried to ignore the feeling of Daryl's eyes on her back. "The girls…" she whispered, taking a staggered breath. "What _happened_ to them; it's my fault."

The hunter could hear the sadness in her voice and he knew something had broken inside her. She was finally opening up. Now that the moment had come, Daryl didn't know if he was prepared to hear her confessions…but he couldn't turn back now; he'd started this. He wasn't stupid. He knew the girls were dead…if they were alive, Carol would've had them with her. But he needed to know how they died…he wanted to know what happened…and why it had taken such a toll on Carol. He needed to hear it, and he knew that she needed to get it off her chest.

She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes. Turning away from the window, Carol leaned back against the wall; she didn't want to look at herself anymore. She met Daryl's gaze and her lips parted. She wasn't prepared for the look on his face…the raw concern and hurt reflected in his eyes.

_I don't deserve his concern…_

With her heart pounding in her chest, Carol made herself speak. "I found them….after the prison…the _attack_…they were with Tyreese." She paused to wipe at her cheeks and then folded her arms tightly across her chest.

Daryl's body was twisted on the cot as he continued to stare at her.

She bowed her head for a second, collecting her scattered thoughts. When she lifted her chin to look at him, another tear slid down her face and her lip trembled. Carol was trying so hard to keep herself together…to stay standing…she didn't want to crumble in front of him. "We were together for a while…the four of us…and Judith."

The hunter nodded, urging her to continue.

"We found a place." she sniffed again and leaned harder into the wall, letting it take her weight. "A house. It was small, but isolated. Out in the woods."

"Was it empty?" he asked softly.

She nodded, wiping the moisture from the end of her nose. "I was already worried when we got there."

"Bout what?"

There was a sad smile on Carol's lips and she tried to blink away unshed tears. "Mikka. She was so sweet…" her voice cracked as she remembered the little girl who'd been so much like Sophia. "I was scared for her. She didn't have a mean bone in her body…and I knew that would catch up with her. People like that…" Carol sniffed. "They don't last…_kids_…" she shook her head and shuddered.

"What happened?" he asked in a low growl, his own dark memories lurking on the fringes of his consciousness.

Carol pulled a deep breath into her lungs and closed her eyes. She let her head fall back and rest against the cool wall. "We were only gone for a few minutes…" A choked sob escaped her and Daryl could see the tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. "We were just checking the perimeter…we'd seen some deer, and I was hoping we'd get close enough to line up a good shot. We were only gone a few _minutes_…" she repeated as one of her hands formed a fist and slammed back into the wall.

Daryl stood, his concern growing as he watched Carol's walls come down, piece by piece.

Carol didn't bother to hide her weakness. She couldn't stop the tears from falling anymore than she could bring Mikka back. Her fist ached from striking the wall, but she suspected that pain was the only thing keeping her rooted to the present. Her fingers were clenched so tightly that blunt nails were biting into the meat of her palm. She sucked her bottom lip and shook her head as the hurt continued to pour from her. "We…we _thought_…" she took a staggered breath and forced herself to continue. "We thought they'd be okay. There was a small fence around the property…we gave them weapons…they'd already practiced shooting."

Daryl's lips parted as he made his way around the cot and took a step in her direction. "What happened?" he asked, his voice even softer than it had been a moment ago.

Carol could taste salty tears between her lips. Her eyes were still slammed shut as she relived the nightmare in her head. The memories were too much for her…the images too real. She felt herself breaking…_snapping_ beneath the weight of her failure. Her body slowly began to slide down the wall until she was sitting on the dirty floor. She brought her knees up and clutched desperately at her hair. Another sob ripped from her chest and her shoulders shook with the effort of containing so much regret. "We were walking back…just talking…making conversation…everything was _fine_!" she hissed through clenched teeth and pulled her hair sharply.

Daryl was afraid…she hadn't been like this since Sophia. It was terrible to see someone he cared for in so much pain. She seemed to be falling apart in front of him…her broken pieces coming unglued. He took another step in her direction but hesitated.

With one hand cupping her forehead and the other resting in her lap, Carol stared up at him. Her chest was rising and falling with each labored breath and fresh tears were shining beneath her eyes. "We were only gone a few minutes…" she whispered, her voice thick with grief. "But when we got back…_she'd_…." Carol was shaking her head again. A part of her still couldn't believe what had happened to the girls. "Lizzie _killed_ her…"

Daryl felt as though he'd been kicked in the chest. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he struggled to accept what Carol had just told him. All he could do was stand, on shaking legs, and stare down at her. "W-why?" he breathed, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Carol's hand moved up, past her forehead, and tangled weakly in her hair. "She was sick. She probably had been for a long time…since before things fell apart." she admitted. "She was confused about the walkers…didn't see them for what they were. She never thought they were dangerous, or bad….she just saw them as…different."

The hunter brought his hands up and laced them behind his head as he started to pace back and forth across the small room.

"She just wanted to be like them…she wanted us to see that they were good, so she killed _Mikka_…hoping to make her turn." Carol's eyes slammed shut again, the revulsion washing over her like a wave of nausea. "She stabbed her…we left them on a blanket with Judith, thinking they'd look after one another…and when we got back…Lizzie was covered in blood. And she couldn't see anything _wrong_ with it!" Carol growled through her tears. "She thought she was doing Mikka a _favor_…" she gnawed her lip so hard she could almost taste blood, but she had to keep talking. Daryl needed to know. "Me and Tyreese….we just stood there…we were frozen. All we could think about was Judith…she was still on the blanket…just a few feet from Lizzie. We tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen…she was so excited…." Carol leaned forward, sobbing into her knees.

The hunter stopped pacing and stared down at the broken woman.

"She was excited to see her sister _turn_…." Carol spat out the bitter words through clenched teeth. "We had to _convince_ her that Judith was too young…"

"What _happened_?" Daryl growled.

Carol's whole body was trembling. "Tyreese managed to get Lizzie to head inside with him and Judith. I stayed back…making sure Mikka didn't turn. We buried the body while Lizzie was sleeping."

"What happened to Lizzie?" the hunter asked, his tone softening as stared down at his friend…the human wreckage that _used_ to be his friend.

"We didn't know what to do…" Carol admitted as one hand tugged at her hair. "She couldn't see anything wrong with what she'd done. Judith was our main concern. We knew we couldn't leave them alone together…we'd never be safe with her…" Even as she said the words, Carol was still having trouble believing that any of this had happened. "I thought about leaving with her.." she sniffed. "But I knew it would take two of us to keep Judith safe…I couldn't just leave Tyrese alone with her…they would never have lasted on their own." She glanced nervously up at Daryl, hoping that he would realize the truth without her having to say the words…but he was still staring at her, a deep crease forming in his brow as he tried to understand.

_He needs to hear it._

Another tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and her skull was beginning to pound. Carol's entire body seemed to ache with the effort of containing such a terrible secret. She felt as though she carried it inside her, like a virus. It was slowly changing her…tainting her blood. After all the time she'd spent running, and all the terrible things she'd done to stay alive…Carol found that it hadn't gotten her anywhere. She was alive…but at what cost? And to what end? All her effort had lead her back to the same lifeless shell of a city where this whole mess started. She was slumped on the floor of a small, dirty room…crying in the dark, like some pathetic child who'd lost her way. A powerful loathing was building, with each beat of her exhausted heart. She hated the person…the _thing_ she'd become. Her teeth were clenched and she seemed to tremble with rage and sadness. She leaned forward, bowing her head…thin fingers curling angrily around her shins as she held herself together. In a moment of weakness, Carol found herself wishing that she could end it….that she could rip herself open, letting all the darkness spill out of her broken body. Taking a staggered breath, and slamming her eyes shut, Carol whispered into her knees. "_I killed her_…"

The hunter's body went rigid. As he stood in the center of the dark room, staring down at the woman he thought he knew…Daryl's mind fumbled for an explanation. He shook his head, taking a step back from her, and tried to convince himself that he'd misheard…

Carol was breathing hard, her lungs burning as she waited for him to say something. She heard the soft sound of his boots scuffing the floor…he was starting to pace again, but he wasn't talking. Her eyes eased open as she realized that he'd heard her…but he didn't want to believe.

_He needs to know. I can't hide from this anymore._

Lifting her chin, she glared up at him through hot tears. "I _killed_ her!" She yelled, her upper lip curling back in a snarl.

But Daryl refused to acknowledge the outburst. He stalked past her, moving from one end of the room to the other, his eyes fixed on something she couldn't see. His breathing seemed to pick up and she could hear him muttering to himself. "_Naw_…._ain't her_….._naw_…." His fists were shaking at his sides. He wouldn't look at her…

Carol wasn't sure how much more she could take. He pushed her into this…backing her into a corner until she was forced to admit the most terrible thing she'd ever done. She'd whispered it, _screamed_ it…But he wasn't listening. Her confession seemed to fall on deaf ears and she couldn't stand it. Carol needed him to say something…_anything_. Her eyes followed him as he moved back and forth across the small room. Each time he moved past her, Carol's anger seemed to build. She'd spent her entire life in the shadows….hiding, cowering…and she wasn't going to hide anymore. She wasn't going to let another man ignore her. With her thin fingers still curling around her shins, Carol hissed at him. "I _had_ to!" She saw Daryl pause for half a heartbeat, his head shaking…but he still wouldn't face her. The rage storming inside her gave Carol strength and she forced herself to stand. Small fists were trembling at her sides she snarled again. "I _had_ to! You weren't _there_…you didn't see what she'd done!" As she spat the venomous words at him, something seemed to snap in the hunter.

He stopped pacing and glanced over his shoulder, glaring at her. His blue eyes had narrowed to cold slits…the look so chilling that for a moment, Carol was genuinely afraid of him. With every muscle in his body tensing, Daryl stalked quickly in her direction, closing the gap between them. She flinched when he was standing in front of her, his body inches from hers. He was seething and she could feel the anger rising from his skin like steam. There was a low growl coming from his chest and his upper lip began to curl back as he stared at her. The hunter was trying to focus on the woman in front of him, but all he could see was red. His breathing picked up and his voice was dangerously low as he spoke to her though gritted teeth. "Ya _stab_ her? _Suffocate_ her?"

Carol swallowed hard, the small hairs at the base of her neck standing up. "I shot her…" she breathed. "She didn't see it coming….I _had_ to…"

"_Bullshit_!" Daryl snarled as he brought one fist up and slammed it into the wall, just inches from Carol's face.

She gasped, her eyes closing suddenly as her heart skipped a beat. She could hear his knuckles colliding with the wall…the deafening sound echoing in her ears. And then he was swearing…the unrestrained curses falling from his chapped lips, one after the other… Adrenaline was coursing through her frame, making her nerve endings vibrate…and cold sweat had broken out under her clothes but there was nothing she could do. Carol couldn't get away from him….from her _mistakes_. She kept her eyes shut tight as more tears rolled down her face. All she could do was shake her head and whisper a feeble explanation. "_She would've killed us….would've killed Judith..I didn't have a choice_…" The weight of her own sadness was slowly crushing her.

Daryl's chest was heaving as he tried to contain the rage burning inside him. He couldn't accept what she'd told him…he didn't want to believe it. His mind was reeling and he didn't know what to say…what to _do_…. The world seemed to slant violently beneath him and Carol became a stranger. He watched her as she crumbled, and wondered how they could possibly fix this.

When Carol finally felt brave enough to meet his gaze, she slowly opened her eyes and blinked away fresh tears. Sniffing, she offered up the only words she had left. "_I had to_…"

Daryl wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream at her…but when she looked at him, the raw pain and suffering that he saw reflected in her blue eyes left him speechless. All he could was stare at her and wonder how she'd even survived losing those two girls. As the two survivors studied one another, so much fear and hurt mingling in the small space between them, Daryl seemed to remember the pain in his hand. Grunting, he pulled his hand away from the wall and stared at the blood that was shining on his knuckles. He was still breathing heavily, but he'd taken a shaky step back from her, his focus going to the damage on his hand.

The realization that he was in pain seemed to pull Carol from her stupor and she reached up to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. Sniffing and clearing her throat, she pushed herself from the wall and moved towards him. Her eyes found his as she silently asked for permission to approach him. The hunter merely grunted, extending his arm. Carol carefully held his wrist and brought his hand up so that she could study the wound. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, the sticky liquid shone black in the moonlight. "Come on," she said softly, urging him to head back towards the cots. He let her lead him until they both eased down to sit on the edge of the first cot.

Daryl blew out a breath, his head hanging low. He let one elbow rest lazily on his knee while Carol held his other hand. "Hang on," she whispered as she carefully set his hand down on the cot. He glanced at her while she stood, moving towards the bags they'd left in the far corner of the room. She stooped, searching through their belongings until she found what she needed. When she walked back to the cot, she held a small towel, a water bottle and a roll of gauze in her hands.

"Ya ain't gotta…" he muttered under his breath.

She sighed, knowing that it was going to take more than a first aid kit to get him to trust her again. "If I don't, no one will." she said as she unscrewed the lid on the water bottle. The tears were beginning to dry on her cheeks.

The hunter's fingers flexed nervously as she pulled gently on his wrist and held his hand out over the edge of the cot. She tipped the bottle and began to pour water over his wounds. He winced when he felt the cool liquid rushing over his torn skin. The water mixed with his blood, diluting it. The two survivors listened to the _pit pat_ sound of heavy drops hitting the floor. Daryl gnawed his lip and formed a fist, forcing more blood to seep from the wounds on his knuckles. Carol continued to pour the water, hoping to clean his hand as best she could. Neither of them knew what to say, so they opted for silence. Carol set the bottle aside and grabbed the small white towel. With narrowed eyes and the tip of her tongue resting between her lips, she dabbed softly at the wet skin and took care not to apply too much pressure to his raw knuckles.

As Daryl watched her, he realized that she wasn't a stranger…at least not entirely. The woman he knew was still there. She still cared, and there was still a gentle side to her. It was then that he understood what it must've taken…for someone like her to put down a _child_…a child that she'd _cared_ _for_. The anger that had been burning inside him seemed to die down as guilt crept into his consciousness. He'd almost struck her…. and for what? Something neither of them could change? He'd forced her into this…he made her tell him. They were supposed to look out for one another, support each other…but he'd lashed out, judging her.

_As If I got any right to judge…._

He knew that neither of them had clean slates, but something about her confession had struck a chord with him. The idea of her killing a child was almost beyond his comprehension, but he supposed that he had no choice but to accept what she'd told him. A sharp tearing sound pulled him from his trance and he watched as she began to wrap his hand with a strip of gauze. The dry cloth felt good on his throbbing knuckles. He grunted softly and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks."

Carol looked up from her work, her lips parting.

"For that…" he explained, eyeing his hand.

"Oh…" she said softly, shaking her head. "It's nothing."

"I'm sorry." he growled under his breath.

Carol looked up at him again, a crease forming in her brow. "Don't be." she swallowed hard and continued wrapping his hand. "You had every right to be angry…you still do."

He shook his head. "Naw. I shouldn't have pushed ya. Ya said ya didn't wanna talk about it 'n…"

She held his hand carefully in hers. "Daryl, don't. You didn't do anything wrong. I should've told you before now." She looped the fabric around again, creating a cushion of layers to protect his knuckles. Her voice was raw from crying and she took a moment to bring the water bottle to her lips, wetting her throat.

The hunter flexed his stiff fingers, wincing at the pain. "I'm still sorry." he said. "Sorry ya lost 'em." he sighed, meaning Lizzie and Mikka.

Carol squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall…she was too tired to keep crying. "I didn't want to…" she whispered.

"I know." he said, his voice so low she could hardly hear him.

Carol sniffed as she tucked the loose end of the gauze strip into the rest of the binding, securing his bandage. When she'd finished, she let her hand rest lightly over his, her fingertips grazing the soft white fabric she'd wrapped him with. "I…." she took a shaky breath and let her shoulders slump. "I didn't know what else to do…."

Daryl watched the way she ran her fingers over the bandage. This was the woman he remembered. The one who leaned over him when he lay injured in the guest bed on Herschel's farm. She'd been so careful with him, brushing his temple with a soft kiss before leaving him to his peace. He knew she'd changed…they both had. She was so much stronger now. A part of him still couldn't believe that she'd survived the hell that was losing Sophia. A lesser woman would've been broken by such terrible loss. But Carol kept going. She didn't need anyone to protect her…she'd made it this far on her own merit. He knew that strength like hers often left little room for softness or compassion…and he worried that the gentle heart he'd first met at the quarry was all but destroyed. But she was still there.. Beneath her hard edges, Carol was still there. "Hey," he said.

She looked up at him, a staggering blend of shame and anger in her eyes.

"You know we get to come back, right?" he asked in a low growl.

Carol released a heavy sigh and gave his hand a gentle pat, dismissing his words. She turned her attention to the window and focused on the moonlight that was spilling into the small room.

"Hey," he said again, his body turning towards her. "We get to start over." His blue eyes seemed to burn in the dark as he stared at her.

Carol didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to see that she'd already lost hope. She tried desperately to focus on the window…the few stars that she could see blinking into existence out in the darkness. But he wouldn't let up. In the next instant, she could feel him tugging gently at her hand. Swallowing down her own frustrations, she finally turned to face him. With her head cocked to the side and one hand rubbing the back of her neck, Carol stared at him. "You really think we get to come back?" she whispered.

He answered with a nod, not trusting himself to speak.

She gave him a sad smile and continued to rub her aching neck. "I'm glad one of us thinks so." she sighed.

Daryl's expression was pained. He needed her to understand. Not knowing what else to do, he squeezed her hand in his, as if he could keep her there…stop the last of her from being torn away. Despite the fact that she was sitting beside him, their bodies just inches away from each other…it felt like they were worlds apart. He couldn't let her disappear.

Carol stared down at his hands…he was holding on to her, his grip at once strong and gentle. The warmth of his palms offered some small comfort and for a moment, Carol felt like she was right where she was supposed to be. She hadn't felt that in so long…. She'd convinced herself that she belonged on the outside…alone. But as he continued to hold on to her, she wondered if she'd been wrong…if he hadn't been keeping her there all along?

_Maybe I was always supposed to find them again…_

Daryl was in over his head; he blew out a breath as he attempted to gather his thoughts. He'd never been good at these sorts of things…talking to people. But this was Carol…and he knew that if he tried, he could talk her down off the ledge….he _had_ to. He'd already lost her once and wasn't going to watch her walk away. "We can start over," he whispered.

Carol's eyes went to his face. She took in all the little details that she'd grown to love. She'd memorized every line and curve, but there was something different about him now. His eyes were a vivid blue and seemed to convey some sense of urgency. It was too much for her and she pulled her hand away from his.

"Carol…" he said, but she ignored him, standing. Once she was on her feet, she walked to the window, leaving him to stare at her back. With her fingers curling around the ledge, she fought to hold back the sadness that was threatening to spill from her. She stiffened when she heard him stand.

He crossed the small space until he was standing beside her. He followed her gaze, each of them staring out into the gloom of the early evening. She was so quiet and he wondered what it was that she was searching for. All that was left out there were broken buildings, _bodies_…the wasted, skeletal remains of a once thriving city. His lips parted as a dark thought entered his head.

_She's lookin' for someplace to go…_

He couldn't keep quiet any longer. "You thinkin' of leavin'?" he asked in a low growl.

Carol's breath caught in her throat as she glanced at him. She considered feeding him a line…offering up another feeble excuse, but something stopped her. She simply couldn't bring herself to lie to him. He'd gotten under her skin and she couldn't hide anymore. "It's crossed my mind." she admitted.

Daryl pulled a deep breath into his lungs and bowed his head. His hands moved to the window ledge, resting near hers. He was at a loss. He didn't know what he could possibly do or say to convince her to stay. "Wish ya wouldn't…" he finally said without looking at her.

Carol turned her head so that she was facing him, her fingertips clawing anxiously at the window ledge. "Sometimes…I just…" she swallowed, trying to maintain her composure. "Sometimes I can't help but think that it would be better for everyone…"

Daryl met her gaze. "Well you're wrong." he growled.

Carol's brows knit together as she struggled to understand the sullen hunter.

He blew out a frustrated breath and ran one broad hand through his hair. "I want ya to stay." His words were hushed, and Carol wasn't even sure she'd hear him at first. But when he locked eyes with her, she felt her chest tighten.

_He wants me to stay…_

The knowledge was staggering and Carol didn't know how to respond. Her lips were parted and her eyes were growing warm again. "You…what?" she breathed.

Daryl gnawed his lower lip nervously, but he forced himself to keep looking at her. He wanted her to know that she was more than the sum of her sins…that she had worth. She mattered to the group…to _him_. Carol wasn't the same woman he'd pulled onto the back of his bike as the farm burned around them. She wasn't a weakling that needed to be rescued…if anything, he owed her his life. If it hadn't been for her…he knew that he and the others would've met their ends at Terminus. They would've been nothing more than livestock…their blood spilling into cold metal troughs. Even before that…she'd been there…when he stumbled back to the prison, a sniveling mess after he'd had to bury his brother. It had been her warm hand wrapping around his, pulling him off the ground and forcing him to keep going. She'd done so much for him…and he suspected that she had no idea how grateful he was. He needed her to know. Taking a shaky breath he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. A small gasp escaped her and she didn't know what to do, but then she felt him bow his head until it was tucked into the crook of her neck. He didn't say anything, he simply kept his arms locked around her thin frame. She could feel his scruff scratching at the tender skin at the base of her neck. Not knowing what else to do, Carol reached up, her arms circling his neck. A single tear slipped from beneath her lashes as they held the connection. He was so warm, and Carol wanted to savor the feeling of being close to him. After Terminus…when he first saw her, he'd taken her breath away by pulling her into a strong hug that made her ribs ache. He'd held onto her as if she were going to be ripped away from him at any moment…and Carol wondered if that same thing was happening now.

_Is he really afraid of losing me?_

His fingers were flexing, clawing gently at her back as he kept their bodies pressed together. He released a heavy sigh when he felt her slender arms wind around his neck. Carol felt the warm breath hit her skin and she shuddered. Neither of them knew what to say, so they simply held each other. Carol wondered what it was that made him care. She knew that he was strong enough to make it on his own…he didn't need anyone, let alone her. But he was with her, so close to her…his arms trapping her. With him, Carol felt something that she knew she'd never find anywhere else…she couldn't quite name it, but It was strong…warm, and real. She could feel it in the way he held her…he was scared. Doing her best to keep more tears from falling, Carol let her fingers tangle in the ends of his hair. As they stood in the dark room, Daryl growled softly into the crook of her neck. "_Don't go_."

Carol choked down a sob and nodded. She clutched his hair tightly in her fists, wanting to keep him close to her. Daryl eased back, just enough to look into her eyes. They could each see how vulnerable the other was. Carol was chewing her bottom lip and a deep crease had formed in Daryl's brow. The hunter's hands slid down to her waist and a sudden warmth was spreading through her frame. With his eyes locked on hers, Daryl licked his chapped lips and forced himself to speak. "_Stay_." he pleaded.

Carol blinked away tears and nodded. She knew then, as she stared at the man who had become so much more than a friend…more than _family_…she couldn't hurt him…she couldn't _leave_. She knew that as long as there was breath in her lungs, she would stay with him. Overwhelmed by the feelings stirring inside her, Carol pulled at his hair, bringing their bodies back together. His lips were resting in the crook of her neck, barely brushing her skin, and she kept her hands in his hair, loving the familiar feeling of it between her fingers. She buried her face in the warmth and safety of his chest, letting his scent surround her. He tightened his grip on her body and gently nuzzled her neck. Standing together, their bodies bathed in the silvery light of the moon, Daryl and Carol clung desperately to the only homes they'd known since the world fell apart. Alive, aching and breathing, they savored the closeness and silently wondered how much time they had left.

**I know! This one was a bit darker, more on the sad side…but I thought it was a powerful scene and just goes to show that Daryl cares for her and needs her. He forgave what she considered to be her greatest sin. Hope I did it justice Vickih! I'm working on another request now (more on the playful side) so there will be more to come from Hotline. Please review! Share the love and tell me what you liked : ) requests are always welcome via PM.**


	3. Sharp

**Hello again : ) First off, I just want to say thank you for the reviews to the first two chapters; you guys are sweet and the compliments really do mean a lot. I was so scared of posting the first chapter because…well…it's a **_**tad**_** racy lol but you guys seemed to have fun which is the reason we're all here! So thanks for the support! I guess if you can handle that, then you'll be up for any smut I might throw at you : ) Today, I'm excited to be posting another request! The lovely Whoneedsasword wanted to see Carol giving Daryl a haircut…minus Daryl's shirt. I'll leave it at that : ) Enjoy… ; ) NSFW!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead…but can you imagine? lol.**

**Chapter 3: Sharp**

"_C'mon_…" Daryl muttered to himself as he watched the doe step out into a small clearing. His bow was raised and he was trying to line up a shot from his hiding place behind a nearby tree. He kept himself just out of sight and tried to slow his breathing. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his fingers were curling anxiously around the trigger. The doe lifted her head suddenly, as if she'd caught his scent. Her black nose quivered and her ears flicked back and forth. Daryl swore quietly before letting his teeth sink into his bottom lip. With his back pressed hard against the tree, he waited. The doe's wide, dark eyes scanned the surroundings, her tail twitching every so often.

The hunter's heart was beginning to pound within the confines of his chest…the way it always did before he made a kill. He exhaled slowly through his nostrils and gripped the bow tighter. He could hear dried leaves crunching softly beneath the doe's hooves and knew that she was leaving.

_Dammitt…_

He had no intention of letting his quarry go. Daryl had been in the woods since before dawn. It was close to noon now and the sun was glaring down at him. There were beads of sweat stinging his eyes and dripping from his temples. The doe was moving slowly, he knew he still had a chance.

_She ain't runnin'…._

Clenching his teeth, Daryl emerged suddenly from his hiding place, pivoting on his heel. In one swift motion, he raised the bow, squeezed the trigger, and sent an arrow flying through the stillness of the clearing. The bolt sliced through the air with a _thwip_ sound, the bright green feathers catching the sunlight just before the damn thing lodged itself in the trunk of a large oak…. With his upper lip curling back in a snarl, the hunter threw his bow to the ground and listened to the doe's hoof beats as the startled animal took off into the woods. He kicked angrily at the forest floor, sending up a small cloud of dead leaves. "_Sonofobitch_!" he growled. His chest was heaving with each labored breath and his eyes were narrowed to mean slits. Daryl could feel rage coursing through his veins, and he wished he had an outlet for it. As he stood in the small clearing, growling and cussing, the hunter found himself hoping for a walker to stumble across his path. With his hands on his hips, he turned his head and spat. He was grateful for the privacy he had in the woods….glad that no one had witnessed his failure. Wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, Daryl stalked in the direction of the oak, to retrieve his arrow. As his sweaty hand curled around the bolt, he realized just how badly he'd missed. He jerked the thing free and studied the small indentation in the bark.

_Missed that deer by a damn mile…_

The hunter glared at the tree. Daryl Dixon had never made a habit of missing his mark…and he damn sure didn't miss by this much. But in the safety and isolation of the woods, he could acknowledge the fact that this was becoming a problem. He'd missed a buck several days ago, and a rabbit that morning… The only reason he had anything to show for his hunt was that he'd set up snares.

_Couple goddamn squirrels ain't gonna feed nobody…._

He glanced down at the string of small rodents tied to his belt and frowned. He knew that the others would start to worry if he didn't head back, but Daryl hated the idea of walking through the gates with so little food. When he missed the buck, earlier in the week, he'd blamed the weather…it had been raining and he thought his finger must've slipped on the trigger. When he missed the rabbit, he figured it was just an off day, bad luck…but _now_, with the arrow clutched tightly in his hand, he was forced to accept the fact that the real cause of all his problems was his goddamn hair. He hadn't cut it since the world went to hell, and it was too long…always in his eyes…in his face. Merle had always taken care of that for him. Daryl ground his teeth in frustration. He couldn't even line up a shot anymore…not with sweat and hair in his eyes. It was difficult to stomach the realization that something so stupid was keeping him from getting his job done.

_Shit stops here…_

As he stood in the woods, trembling with anger, Daryl made a silent vow. He would fix this. He didn't care how, just as long as he got it done. He knew there were a few pairs of scissors back at the prison and he was going to find a way to cut his damn hair. The hunter could care less if he ended up looking like a jackass, all that mattered was being able to put food on the table. With his mind made up, he stooped to retrieve his bow. With a grunt, he slung the weapon onto his shoulder and began the long, bitter trek back through the forest.

"You're gettin' pretty good with that thing." said Rick as he stared down at Carol's work.

She smirked, glancing at him. "I'm learning." She returned her attention to the small rag in her hands. She ran it along the smooth barrel of her pistol. Eager to familiarize herself with different weapons, Carol had spent the better part of an hour taking the pistol apart, cleaning each of the components and then reassembling it. She was working at one of the small tables in the mess hall; Beth and Carl sat across from her, cleaning their own weapons.

Rick eyed Judith, bouncing the baby girl on his hip as he held her. They all heard Michonne hiss from a nearby table. Herschel was working to stitch a gash on her arm. With Glenn and Maggie on watch outside, the cellblock was relatively quiet. They were each occupied with their own tasks and seemed to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled over them. It wasn't often that the survivors experienced any sort of peace, and spending a boring afternoon together was a welcome change. In the backs of their minds, each of them knew that the temporary calm was due, in part, to the fact that Daryl was hunting.

The deputy began walking from one end of the room to the other, speaking softly to his daughter and continuing to bounce her on his hip. After he'd crossed the room several times, he paused near Carol again and chuckled to himself.

She arched an eyebrow as she looked up at him. "What's funny?"

"Nothin'…just wonderin' how long this is gonna last." he said, brushing Judith's forehead with a kiss.

Carol set her pistol down on the table and eyed the deputy. "What?" she chuckled.

Rick shook his head slowly, a faint smile on his lips. "Peace 'n quiet."

Carol reached up to rub the back of her neck, her eyes going to the floor as she smiled. "What makes you think it's not gonna last?" she asked.

Rick shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Just got a feelin'."

It was Carol's turn to shake her head. She blew out a breath and resumed her cleaning. "He's not that bad." she said, smiling.

Beth and Carl chuckled.

"Quit." she chided, smirking at them.

The two young people tried to focus on their work but their lips were twitching as they fought to keep the smiles off their faces. They knew the angry redneck couldn't keep quiet to save his life. The group, as a whole, often wondered how someone so loud had ever learned to hunt in the first place. Just as the chuckling began to die down, a sharp sound caused them all to snap their heads up.

Daryl grunted as he pulled the heavy metal door open, causing it to squeak on its rusty hinges. After he stepped inside, he slammed the door shut behind him. The _clang_ echoed throughout the mess hall and he saw the others staring at him. He acknowledged them with a slight nod and kept his head down as he stalked through the room. Tired, frustrated, and unprepared for any immediate interaction with his fellow group members, Daryl stomped up the metal stairs with purpose. His boots thumped all the way up to the perch where he finally threw his gear down and collapsed with a huff onto his bedroll.

The others had to bite the insides of their cheeks to keep from laughing. "Speak of the devil…" Carol mumbled under her breath, making the two young people chuckle.

Rick brought one hand up to rub his temple; he could already feel a headache forming. If Daryl's dramatic entrance was any indicator, the hunt hadn't gone well…and the deputy was not looking forward to dealing with a hunter who's mood would undoubtedly be sour.

"Off day?" Michonne asked as she waited patiently for Herschel to finish stitching her.

Rick turned to her, "Seems like he's been havin' a lot of those lately."

"I didn't see him carryin' anything." said Beth.

"Yeah," the deputy sighed. "Neither did I. Guess he just isn't comin' across much game lately."

Carol ran a hand through her hair and idly wondered what it was that had Daryl in a rut.

Rick cleared his throat, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Hm?" she asked, looking up at him.

"You mind checkin' on him?" the deputy asked.

She blinked, a crease forming in her brow. "Me?"

"He won't yell at you," Carl explained.

Carol's lips parted as she stared at the boy.

"He's right," added Beth. "He argues with Daddy, Michonne…Rick, Glenn…but I've never heard him yell at you."

Carol snorted, shaking her head. "I think you all are mistaken. That man…" she gestured up at the perch. "Has had it out with me on more than a few occasions. This 'immunity' that you seem to think I have…it doesn't exist."

"I've never see you fight…" said Carl.

Carol's brows knit together as she sat up straight, her arms folding tightly across her chest. "Excuse me? Back on the farm he…."

But the boy cut her off. "Yeah, back on the _farm_. I haven't seen him yell at you since then…"

Rick was smirking as he watched the exchange between Carol and his son.

Her lips parted but she didn't have a response. "Rick?" she said, looking to her leader for help.

The deputy answered with a shrug. "Sorry; I think he's right."

Carol was dumbfounded. She looked around the room…eyeing each of her fellow survivors. "I can't believe you…." she breathed.

The others simply averted their eyes and tried to keep from laughing.

"I'm just askin' you to check on him, that's all." said Rick. "We don't need him stewin' up there all day."

Carol gnawed her lower lip and placed her palms flat on the table. Pulling a calming breath into her lungs, she stood. When she turned to face Rick, he took a step back. She paused, looking around the room and pointing to each of them in turn. "If this blows up in my face…" she wanted to sound angry, threatening…but the way they were all trying so hard not to laugh…it was breaking her resolve. Sighing in defeat, she let her arms fall to her sides. "Fine…but next time, it's someone else's problem." She gave the deputy a long, hard look before heading towards the stairs.

"You got it." he said, nodding.

"Good," she called over her shoulder.

The others held their breath as they watched her go.

Daryl was lying on his back, his eyes closed. He had one fist balled at his side while his other arm was draped lazily across his forehead. He was breathing through his nose, trying to control his temper. He knew that if the others weren't nearby, he'd be tearing the damn perch apart…or at least kicking something. But he was trying to stay calm; an outburst would only attract unwanted attention. His numerous frustrations were only compounded by the fact that he was covered in dirt and sweat. It was making his skin itch. He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced down at his shirt. The thin fabric was stained, torn in places…flecked with dried blood…some of it was his, but he suspected most of it belonged to animals he'd caught.

_Back when ya used to catch shit…._

The bitter thought made him clench his teeth. Feeling useless, restless and filthy, he sat up and pulled the shirt over his head, mussing his sweaty hair. He flung the shirt away angrily and crawled in the direction of his ruck-sack, hoping that he had something cleaner to wear. He knew that Beth wouldn't be washing clothes until tomorrow. As he crouched over his meager pile of belongings, Daryl heard footsteps on the metal stairs. He stiffened at the sound, the hairs at the base of his neck standing up. The hunter valued his privacy above all else, and he cringed at the idea of someone seeing him in any state of undress. He was scrambling to find something to change into, but he froze when he heard the footsteps stop. Turning quickly, he saw Carol standing at the top of the steps. Cold fear pooled in his belly and he sat down, raising his knees, his arms draping across them. He was trying to make himself small…invisible. The hunter kept his head down.

Carol had muttered to herself all the way up the stairs. She had no idea what they expected her to accomplish. The way she saw it, Daryl was just as likely to yell at her as he was to argue with the rest of them. Granted, she didn't want the hunter to pull away and isolate himself…at least not any more than he already had. But she didn't think that she had the power to stop him. Her hand slid along the cool, metal railing as she climbed the steps. When she finally reached the landing, her breath caught in her throat. Daryl had his back to her; he was crouched in the far corner of the perch, looking through his bags. He turned the moment he heard her, but the glimpse she got of him left her speechless. His back was covered in sweat, dirt, and a network of scars. She hadn't gotten a good look, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. The lines on his skin were deep, angry… Carol knew enough about scars to know that his were not the result of hunting accidents. Someone _hurt_ him. From the looks of it….someone had made a habit of hurting him. The knowledge was difficult to accept and she suddenly felt guilty for invading his space.

Daryl could feel goose bumps rising on his arms as she stood on the landing. She hadn't said anything, but he knew she'd seen. In desperate need of a distraction…and privacy, Daryl growled at her. "What ya want?"

She swallowed hard, wishing she'd never set foot on the stairs. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't mean…." she sighed. The words weren't coming out right. With her eyes on her sneakers, Carol hugged herself. "I didn't mean to disturb you." she said.

The hunter took a moment to study her. He could see by the way she was standing that she was as uncomfortable as he was…if not more so. He knew that she meant what she'd said. She wasn't trying to pry. If anything, Daryl figured he should be grateful that she tolerated him…that somebody cared enough to check on him. His fuse had been running dangerously short lately and he released his tension by lashing out at anyone that crossed him, but Carol always seemed to give him the space he needed. He'd never say it out loud but he actually enjoyed her company. They'd grown accustomed to each other since the farm and Daryl found that she didn't try his patience quite as often as the others did. He supposed he shouldn't take his bad day out on her. Still feeling terribly exposed, the hunter grunted a response. "Ain't nothin'."

Surprised by his answer, Carol lifted her chin and stared at him. His arms were resting on his raised knees and his head was still bowed. Not knowing what else to say, Carol shifted from one foot to the other.

_Say something…. _

But she didn't know how to move forward.

_We need to get past this…we can't linger on it…._

Clearing her throat, Carol stepped onto the perch and leaned back against the railing, her eyes roaming the hunter's small sanctuary. She noticed the string of squirrels that had been tossed on the floor. "I'm guessing things didn't go so well out there." she said softly.

Daryl sighed and brought one hand up to rub his tired eyes. "Shit day," he muttered.

"Game getting scarce?" she asked, genuinely curious.

The hunter ran a broad hand through his mussed hair and grunted. "Naw. They're out there." He chewed the corner of his lip and wondered how much he should tell her. "Saw a doe earlier."

Carol's arms were folded across her chest. "Yeah? What happened?"

Daryl brought his thumb to his mouth and began chewing the nail. "Missed the shot."

Carol couldn't believe that they were actually carrying on a conversation. Not that it was something new…but she didn't expect him to engage her when he was half-dressed. He'd been closed off since he'd come back from burying his brother, and she understood. They spoke occasionally…when they ended up on watch together…or while they ate. She felt that they were finally getting comfortable with one another again. They'd established a shaky friendship over the winter, and Daryl had slowly grown into his role in the group…but the devastation of losing Merle had taken a heavy toll on the hunter. He'd withdrawn into himself and it had taken the combined effort of everyone in the group to coax him back. Carol didn't want to pass up an opportunity to connect with him. She knew he was still uncomfortable with her seeing him shirtless, but she felt that she could ease some of the tension between them. With her arms still folded across her chest, Carol gave him a small smile. "What went wrong?" she asked. "You never miss."

He could hear the smile in her voice and he lifted his chin, meeting her gaze. A faint blush came to his cheeks as she continued to stare at him. "Nothin'," he growled softly, "Just missed."

Carol's head cocked to the side as she considered his answer. She knew there was something he wasn't telling her. Silence seemed to fill the space between them as she studied him. She watched as he chewed his thumbnail, his other hand coming up to push the sweaty locks of hair back from his forehead. That was when it hit her… The corner of her mouth hitched up into a smirk. "It's your hair, isn't it?"

Daryl's thumb fell away from his mouth as his brows knit together. "What?"

Carol chuckled to herself. "You can't see can you?"

He huffed, looking away.

"I've spent the last few weeks wondering how in the world you can possibly see through that mess." she gestured to his hair.

He glared at her. "I see just fine."

"Okay," she said, pushing away from the railing and taking a step towards him. "Then why'd you miss the shot?"

Daryl stood, his insecurities momentarily forgotten. "Told ya…" he snapped, "Just a shit day."

Carol took another step in his direction, slowly closing the gap between them. The hunter was glaring at her, but she wasn't intimidated. "I don't believe you." she smirked.

Daryl felt himself bristling as he moved into her space, trying to get her to back down. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his nostrils were flaring a little with each breath. "Like I give a shit what you believe…" he growled, the sound low…dangerous.

Carol stood her ground. They were closer now, just inches apart, and his scent seemed to hit her for the first time. The sharp tang of his sweat hung in the air, she could almost taste it…but there was _more_. She let herself breathe him in…he smelled like grass, trees…dirt…_pine_, smoke, water…and an earthy musk that she imagined must come from the animals he'd caught. The combination was strangely addictive and Carol was having trouble remembering what they were arguing about. She felt momentarily dazed but when she refocused on his face…the dark hair that hung in his blue eyes…it came back to her. She ignored the feelings that were stirring inside her and made herself speak. "You sure seem rattled for someone who doesn't care what I believe…." she said, the smirk still on her mouth as she stared him down.

Daryl was at a loss. He wasn't used to anyone pushing back…and he certainly hadn't expected Carol to go toe-to-toe with him. The hunter was out of excuses.

_She knows….no use fightin' her….._

He bowed his head for a moment, releasing a heavy sigh. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were still narrowed, but some of the fight seemed to have gone out of him. "I was plannin' on fixin' it soon as I got back…_alright_?"

Carol reached up to rub her jaw. "Yeah?" she asked, amusement plain on her face.

"Ain't none of your concern." he huffed.

She couldn't help the small chuckle that was bubbling up from her chest. Carol couldn't be sure if the intoxicating scent was clouding her judgment, or if she genuinely found the situation that funny, but she was chuckling as she answered him. "So you're planning on cutting your own hair?"

That smile on her mouth was starting to get under his skin. "Ya think I _can't_?" He snapped, his own arms folding across his chest.

Carol rolled her eyes. "I guess I'm just failing to understand why you'd even attempt it when you have an entire group of people who can help you."

He snorted. "Ain't made a habit of askin' ya'll for help…ain't gonna start now."

Carol blinked, amazed by the stubbornness of the man in front of her. She took a moment to run her hands over her face in exasperation. "This is ridiculous…I'm not letting you cut your own hair." She didn't wait for a response, opting to head towards her cell instead. She could feel her head clearing as soon as she stepped away from him.

Daryl watched her go, a deep crease forming in his brow. "Where ya goin'? We ain't done here…" he called after her.

Carol waved a hand, dismissing his protest without looking back at him. "Come on."

Once again, the hunter found himself at a loss. He watched as she disappeared into her cell. Feeling a bit too conspicuous out on the perch, Daryl shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He chewed his thumbnail out of habit and agonized over the decision for several seconds before giving in and following her. When he was finally standing in front of her cell, he spat out a nail fragment and willed himself to calm down.

_It's just Carol…she's just tryin' to help._

He cleared his throat and slid his hands into his back pockets, feeling as though he didn't have permission to go in. Carol must have sensed him lingering outside because, in the next instant, she'd pulled aside the sheet that hung from the ceiling. "You gonna let me help you?" she asked.

Daryl glared at her. "It gonna take long?" he growled.

She sighed, "Not if you sit still."

He bowed his head as he moved past her, stepping inside. Carol caught his scent again and wondered if she was making a mistake. She didn't know how she was going to focus on cutting his hair when that smell was flooding her senses, making her forget her own name. Shaking her head to rid herself of the ridiculous thoughts, she let the make-shift curtain drop.

He was standing awkwardly in the center of her cell and Carol couldn't help but find his discomfort endearing. She walked to one of the far corners, retrieving a folded, metal chair that was leaning against the wall. The legs scraped on the floor as she drug the chair to where Daryl stood. The hinges screeched when she unfolded it. "Go on," she said. "Sit."

The hunter slumped into the chair with a sigh. He took a moment to glance around the cell. There were dual bunks; all the cells had them. Carol had taped a few maps to the walls and there was a small nightstand at one end of the room. Other than that, the cell was fairly plain. Even the sheet she'd hung for privacy was devoid of patterns or prints. It was a simple, white blanket, but Daryl found that he liked it. He was never one for unnecessary frills or accents. He figured it was best not to get too comfortable anywhere…especially when he knew they'd end up running sooner or later. He could hear Carol behind him, rummaging through her bags. When she walked around the chair and stood in front of him, she held up a shining pair of scissors and a broken comb.

Daryl frowned. "Sure you know what you're doin'?"

Carol smirked at him. "What? You think you can do a better job?"

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Just get on with it then."

She held the scissors between her teeth as her hands went to his hair, parting it. She moved to stand behind him, the comb raking gently through his hair. Daryl couldn't stop the soft groan that came from his chest when he felt the teeth of the comb being pulled through his hair. It felt good, and he idly wondered when the last time was that he'd touched a comb.

The sound echoed in Carol's ears and she found herself smiling. His hair was damp with sweat, tangled…she had to work to get the comb through but she was careful not to jerk or pull too hard. Slipping the plastic comb into her pocket she took the scissors and held them near the base of his neck. He must've sensed the cool metal approaching his skin because he sat up straight, his body going rigid. The motion startled Carol and she placed her free hand on his shoulder. Leaning down, she spoke softly to him. "Relax."

Daryl swallowed hard, his blunt nails clawing at his jeans. Her hand was surprisingly warm on his shoulder and her voice was so low in his ear. He felt his blood pressure rise when she spoke to him. The hunter didn't know exactly what was taking place but he felt that this was as relaxed as he was going to get. He managed a weak nod and kept his eyes trained on the far wall.

Carol gave his shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before she made herself let go. He felt good, strong in her hand…and she wanted to maintain that grip. She liked the way that damp skin felt under her palm, but just before her nails could dig in, the voice of reason emerged from somewhere in the back of her skull.

_Focus_.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a cleansing breath, glad that she was behind him and he couldn't see her. Carol had no idea what was wrong with her. They'd all been together, as a group, for over a year now… They weren't strangers. She spent every day surrounded by the same, relatively small group of survivors. She'd memorized their faces…their voices; they knew each other's habits, skills, preferences…In all the time since their paths first crossed at the quarry, she and Daryl had probably engaged in close to a thousand micro-conversations. The group had sought temporary shelter in gas stations, barns…even storage units. There never seemed to be much privacy or space, and they'd all gotten fairly used to living in cramped quarters. Carol was sure she'd even bedded down near him on a few occasions. She remembered waking up in the middle of the night because he'd jerked in his sleep, his boot hitting her in the ribs. The memory made her smile. But for some reason…the proximity hadn't mattered then…not like it did now. She didn't understand how someone so familiar could seem so new…_different_. His scent was making her mouth go dry and she didn't know what to do. A sudden warmth was spreading throughout her body and she was having to exert actual effort to remain calm.

_It's just a haircut…It's just Daryl…you're fine._

But it wasn't just Daryl. It occurred to her, as she stared down at the shoulder she'd been clutching just seconds ago, that he wasn't the same person she'd met at the quarry. He wasn't that angry, childish, redneck who threw tantrums when things didn't go his way…at least not anymore. She wasn't sure when exactly the change had taken place, but it had. His temper and his recklessness always made him seem like something of a boy to Carol, but the person sitting in her cell now…the shirtless, quiet, brooding, scarred person that she was standing so close so…he certainly didn't seem like a boy anymore. Losing herself, she took a moment to grip the back of the metal chair and pull that addictive scent into her lungs again. Her body trembled slightly and she bit her bottom lip hard. That's when she knew; somewhere between the quarry, the farm, the prison, and all the pain they'd endured along the way…Daryl had become a man. She must've been lost in her own thoughts for some time because the next thing she knew, Daryl was clearing his throat to get her attention.

"Ya alright?" he asked, without looking back at her.

Carol uncurled her stiff fingers, releasing the metal chair. She released the breath she'd been holding and reached up to wipe a bit of sweat that had formed on her brow. "Mhmm" she answered quickly as she tried to follow her own advice and relax.

The hunter felt uneasy. He wasn't used to spending time in other people's cells and he couldn't help but wish that he'd grabbed a shirt before letting her do this. Desperate to mask his own discomfort, Daryl decided to keep talking. "Don't go botchin' it."

Carol smiled as she stood behind him. She reached out and took a small section of his hair, holding it between two of her fingers. After several seconds of concentration, she began trimming the ends, doing her best to maintain the relatively shaggy look that the hunter seemed to prefer. "You don't trust me?" she asked as she continued clipping.

Daryl huffed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see bits of his own dark hair falling…the pieces littering the floor around his feet. "Just don't go makin' me look like a damn jack ass." The words came out as soft growls.

Carol chuckled as she finished one section of his hair "I think it looks good." She took a step back, admiring her work, and then ran her free hand through his hair, trying to get a sense of how she was doing. The instant her fingers tangled themselves in his damp locks, Carol realized she'd made a mistake. She was seized by a sudden, terrible urge to tighten her grip and pull his hair

_God…._

But she was stronger than that. She forced herself to let go as she moved to his side and began working on another section. Carol was working hard to maintain her composure, but beneath her mask, she was struggling. Her body seemed to thrum with a need that she couldn't quite name

The hunter was gripping the edges of the metal chair, his blunt nails scraping at the paint. He knew that it was hot outside…he'd spent the entire morning running through the woods, wiping sweat out of his eyes. The sun had been relentless. He expected to find at least a little relief within the cool, concrete walls of the prison, but as he sat in the middle of Carol's cell, he could've sworn that the heat was worse. He couldn't help but wonder if his mind was playing tricks on him. He supposed the uncomfortable warmth could have something to do with his own nervousness. A drop of sweat slipped from his temple, making a muscle in his jaw twitch. Before he could overthink the heat, Carol's long, slender fingers were raking gently through his hair and he had to close his eyes. He wasn't one for being touched, but he couldn't ignore how good it felt when she combed her fingers through his locks. He kept a low growl locked in his chest and tried to savor the slight contact. When she withdrew her hand, he turned to look at her.

Carol had the scissors raised and was about to make another cut when Daryl turned and glanced at her. They only held the connection for a moment but his eyes had the power to make her weak in an instant. Those narrowed, blue slits made her breath catch. "W-What?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as flustered as she felt.

Daryl gnawed his lip for a moment and considered a response. He didn't know what to say…what he _wanted_ to say… He just felt the need to look at her…to _watch_ her.

_What're ya doin'….ya need to leave her be…let her do this and be on your way…can't go askin' Carol to spend all afternoon messin' with your damn hair._

The hunter knew that the voice in his head was right…that the words made sense…but he didn't want to listen. He ignored the harsh, nagging voice, and continued to study the woman standing beside him. His eyes flicked to her feet, the high black boots she always wore…the corner of his mouth hitched up in a smirk.

_Woman's come a long way…_

He remembered the skittish, mousy woman he'd met at the quarry… She was always the type to keep her head down and her mouth shut…at least when her bastard of a husband was around. But that woman had disappeared a long time ago. The person staring at him now wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. Daryl had fought beside her on enough occasions and he knew, without a doubt, that she could handle herself. He found that he liked that…he liked the person she'd become. He seemed to notice, for the first time, how long her legs were. His eyes roamed carefully from the tops of her boots, higher, to her hips…to the sinister looking knife that hung from her belt…the handle featured a set of thick, brass knuckles; the metal seemed to glint in the afternoon light. The hunter thought back, idly trying to pinpoint the moment she'd made the transition from victim, to fighter. He continued to study her, taking note of her small waist. He wished there was more weight on her…that he could do a better job of providing, but he figured the haircut was the first step in the right direction. He only allowed himself to glance at her chest for half a heartbeat before refocusing on her face. She looked nervous. He noticed her hand was shaking as she held the scissors. The motion was slight; she was working to hide it, but he saw. Needing another distraction, he gestured to her hand. "Sure you're alright?" he asked.

Carol answered with a curt nod, twirling the scissors on her fingers just to prove a point. The tip of her tongue darted quickly over her lips and she clutched the tool tightly…the cool metal almost soothing in her palm. She cleared her throat and pointed to the far wall. "Face forward and keep still. I'm almost done."

He snorted. "Fine." The hunter leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

Carol blinked several times, taking a much needed breath. She couldn't concentrate when his eyes were on her. Forcing herself to continue, she held another section of his hair between two of her fingers and began making small cuts. She did her best to keep her hand from shaking. When she finally finished the side she'd been working on, Carol tucked a piece of freshly cut hair behind his ear. She acted without thinking, her fingertips barely brushing his skin…she was simply trying to be kind…to smooth down the mussed hair, but the contact was sudden and sharp…sending a jolt of electricity up through her wrist..shocking her heart and making it beat just a little faster.

A warm sigh of contentment passed Daryl's lips as he tried to remember if anyone had ever been so careful with him. Her touch was so light and a chill worked its way down his spine when he felt her soft fingers brush the skin behind his ear. Before he could even process the sensation, she pulled away.

Carol was having an internal argument…and the voice in her head seemed to be losing.

_Stop. You're being ridiculous. This is a haircut, nothing more. Just a simple task that you shouldn't even have offered to help with… _

The logical thoughts were doing little to calm her nerves. No amount of wishful thinking or denial would change the fact that he was sitting there…so close to her…so much of his damp skin on display for her…she couldn't ignore the way his hair felt between her fingers, or the way her core tightened when his blue eyes were trained on her face.

_Dammitt…._

Now there was a nagging twinge of pain between Carol's legs and it was causing fresh sweat to break out all over her body. She didn't understand the physical sensations that were currently battling for her attention….at least not entirely. Carol wasn't foolish. She knew that on some basic level, her body was simply reacting to the nearby presence of a potential partner.

_Jesus…_

Even the thought was too much for her. She brought one hand up, rubbing her forehead.

_What the hell are you doing? Partner? The man makes every effort to distance himself from other people…What could possibly make you think that he wants physical contact with anyone…let alone you?_

But Carol couldn't help the way he made her feel. It was just natural, human hunger. She was a woman who'd gone without any male attention for longer than she could remember…and her body was simply craving the contact. In a slight daze, she eyed the hunter. He was sullen, abrasive, hot-blooded, damaged…but beneath it all, he was still just a man. Carol bit the corner of her lip and wondered if he ever experienced similar hunger pangs.

_He must…_

She supposed that even if he did, it wouldn't make a difference. They'd all grown so accustomed to living on top of one another and placing all of their focus on the most basic necessities…_food, water, sleep, shelter…._ Their daily lives left little room for the pursuit of secondary needs. And for the longest time, that hadn't mattered. With the exception of Glenn and Maggie, the survivors seemed relatively content to live out the rest of their days without any physical release….aside from the barbaric rush they each got when they drove rusty blades into the skulls of walkers. But now, standing so close to him…in the stifling heat of the small cell in the mid-afternoon…Carol saw the potential for release. Despite all the time they'd spent together, Daryl was still a stranger to her in many ways. She'd never had the courage to ask him about his past…about how him and Merle first made it out of the city…or why they'd chosen to stay with the quarry group. There were a thousand things she didn't know about Daryl Dixon, but as she stared at him, Carol knew that he could stop the pain between her legs. He was grown….he was one of the strongest members of their group; she'd seen him fight and knew what kind of stamina he had…he was relentless. All these facts only served to convince Carol that he could satisfy the need that had suddenly taken hold of her.

_No…._

The voice of reason, though small and fading, had broken through the rosy haze of desire that was clouding her mind.

_He's not looking to make that kind of connection. Forget about it, and move on. If you don't focus, you're going to make a fool of yourself… You can't just stop cutting his hair to proposition him….for God's sake…._

But the thought was tempting. Pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing, Carol decided to keep doing what she'd been doing since the world fell apart; she accepted the fact that she'd simply have to do without certain things. Forcing a small smile she moved so that she was standing in front of him. He was staring up into her face. "Just have to do the front and you'll be good to go." she said.

The hunter answered with a nod, his elbows still resting on his knees. He began wringing his hands. Daryl's nerves were getting the best of him, and he didn't know why. Still leaning forward, he did his best to ignore the fact that she was in front of him. He bowed his head and wondered how much longer he'd have to sit there.

Carol steeled herself, drawing on every last ounce of self control that she had. She knew that she wouldn't be able to trim his bangs unless he lifted his chin, but the thought of his eyes on her face…it was making Carol's insides twist. Sighing softly, and struggling to remain calm, she reached out and gently lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her.

Daryl felt himself tense the moment she touched him, but he found that the contact wasn't entirely unwelcome. He didn't feel the usual urge to bat her hand away, and he didn't resist. Instead, he let her tilt his chin up. The hunter seemed calm as he stared up at her, but his heart rate was steadily increasing.

Carol swallowed hard and tried to ignore the feeling of his scruff under her fingers. "Need you to keep your head up."

He grunted softly and she took the sound as acceptance. Focusing harder than she had in a long time, Carol began to take long sections of his bangs…the damp hair slipping between two of her fingers. Daryl let his eyes close as he enjoyed the feeling of her touching him. As she continued to trim his ends, she heard a low groan come from somewhere deep in his chest. Her heart skipped a beat and she had to take a step back…putting a bit of space between them. That husky, almost animalistic sound made her temperature rise and suddenly, Carol felt as though she were suffocating. She couldn't handle the heat spreading through her body and she needed some relief…however slight. Easing carefully onto the floor, she set the scissors down with a soft _clack_.

The hunter's eyes opened, a crease forming in his brow as he stared down at her. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

Carol didn't look at him; she focused on the straps and laces of her boots as she worked to get them off. "No. Just figured it's too hot for these…and my feet hurt." she said, trying to sound normal…lighthearted.

Daryl watched as she struggled with the boots. His eyes roamed innocently from her legs to her stomach, then higher to her chest…and that's when he made an alarming discovery. She was leaning forward, fidgeting with thick leather straps and from his position in the chair, Daryl could see down her shirt. His lips parted slightly and he couldn't help but to notice the shadowed dip in her cleavage…soft curves…the tops of her breasts. It felt wrong…he knew that he should stop, clear his throat…_anything_…but he was strangely fascinated. Despite all the months they'd spent together, the hunter had never seen much of her skin. She tended to wear pants, long sleeve shirts…even in summer. It was simply circumstance that had given him this brief glimpse of her body, and he couldn't make himself look away.

Carol grunted as she pulled one heavy boot off and tossed it aside. Once she'd torn both boots from her feet, she quickly peeled off her socks and wiggled her toes, grateful for the slight relief. Thinking that she might finally be able to concentrate, at least long enough to trim the last few pieces of Daryl's hair, she grabbed the scissors and forced herself up off the floor. The movement pulled the hunter from his trance.

"Better?" he asked, hoping that talking would help clear his head.

She smiled, feeling the cool concrete beneath the soles of her feet; it was helping. "Yes." she chuckled. "A little." She gave him a soft smile as she moved back in and resumed her work.

Daryl was doing his best to remain stoic, neutral. He'd never given much thought to what was hiding under Carol's clothes…or any of the other women's clothes for that matter. Daryl didn't let himself think about those things. He knew that if he let his eyes or his imagination wander, he would end up with more frustration than he could handle, and no way to relive it. Even before the world went to hell, the hunter hadn't been the type to agonize over things he couldn't have…and he didn't let himself get distracted. When he felt the need for physical contact with the opposite sex, he either found a willing partner and spent several minutes behind her, grunting through his own release, or he took care of the tension on his own. Once things fell apart…there was no room for physical hunger. All that mattered was survival. But _now_, trapped in a small cell with Carol, he was reminded of his baser needs, and of how long it had been since they were satisfied. Daryl was trying to push the thoughts from his mind, but she was so close to him…leaning down, studying her work.

_Stop. It's Carol…ya ain't got a right to think about her like that. _

But he could see her chest; his eyes were drawn to the shadowed space between her breasts and he wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked. The flow of blood to his brain was beginning to redirect itself, but he was too lost to notice. His lids were heavy and his mouth was dry.

With a final, sharp _clip, _Carol watched the last bit of Daryl's hair fall to the floor. In disbelief that she'd actually managed to complete her task without making a fool of herself, Carol breathed a sigh of relief and wiped some of the sweat from her brow. Tucking the small scissors into her back pocket, she looked him over. Despite her nerves, she felt she'd done a decent job of taking off length while maintaining the messy style that Daryl preferred.

Sensing that he needed to speak, Daryl licked his dry lips and made himself say something. "Turn out alright?"

She smiled, nodding. "I think so." Purely out of habit, she reached out with both hands. Starting at his temples, she pushed her slender fingers back, further into his hair, trying to smooth it. He shuddered slightly, his eyes slamming shut as her nails grazed his scalp. Losing herself, Carol pulled back, combing her fingers through his locks, tugging almost playfully. She heard him growl and the sound made her core hurt. Easing back, she stared at him. His blue eyes were narrowed, _sharp_, cutting into her…and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. With her fingertips still resting at his temples, she tried to puzzle out the look on his face…it was at once startling and arousing. Unsure of what was taking place, Carol let her hands fall to her sides as she backed away from him. She only managed to put a few feet of space between them, her body wouldn't allow her to get any further.

Daryl instantly missed her touch…missed having her close to him. He continued to stare at her; she looked frightened. Her chest was rising and falling with each breath she took and he found the slight motion of her body mesmerizing. His toes were curling anxiously in his boots.

Carol couldn't understand the way he was looking at her. He seemed oddly fixated. It was almost as if he….

_No. _

The rational part of her brain was making itself heard again.

_He's not….He doesn't want….._

Carol's brows knit together as her hands slid into her back pockets. She was about to say something…to break the ridiculous trance they were both in….but something stopped her. Her lips parted, and color spread across her cheeks when she noticed the hunter's arousal. Her mind could barely process what she was seeing and all Carol could do was stand, dumbfounded, and blink… Daryl hadn't moved; his eyes were still trained on her. But just below his belt, she saw what looked to be the start of an erection. Her mouth went dry and she had to make herself look away.

_Does he realize? Why would he….how?_

The questions were forming faster than she could hope to answer them. Her heart thrummed painfully in her chest and she reached up, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Within the safety of her own mind, she frantically began to search for solutions.

_I can pretend I didn't notice…I'll just leave…give him a minute…but It's my cell…shouldn't he leave? I guess he can't really leave like that? Jesus christ…._

She was still rubbing her neck when her eyes found his again. He seemed so calm, _focused_… Carol had only ever seen that look on his face when she'd gone hunting with him. He'd taken her once or twice, teaching her to make snares….and he'd worn that same expression of subtle confidence when he'd lined up a shot that he knew he couldn't miss. The thought that he was watching her, the way he watched the animals he tracked, sent a rush of heat through Carol's frame. Suddenly, she didn't feel the need to leave…or make excuses. Holding his gaze, she began moving towards him again…her steps slow and sure.

Daryl didn't know what was happening; blood was pouring into the lower half of his body and he felt as though he was trapped in the metal chair.

Carol stopped when she was standing directly in front of him. The hunter sat up straight, his hands resting on his thighs. She bit the corner of her lip as she stared at the bulge in his jeans. Doing her best to remain calm, Carol refocused on his face and spoke softly. "You're good to go…unless you want to stay…" Her insides were knotting and twisting as she waited for him to say something.

For a moment, Daryl wasn't sure he'd heard her. But when he saw her eyes flick quickly to his groin, the blood froze in his veins.

_Fuck…._

Fear, embarrassment, and anger began to war inside him, but then Carol's words were echoing in his ears…

_Stay…. _

A deep crease formed in his brow as he considered the possible meanings behind what she'd said.

Carol could see that he was fighting an internal battle; he was confused. Seeking to remove any doubts he might have about her intentions, she bit her bottom lip and reached for his hands. He tensed at the contact but didn't resist. Swallowing hard, she carefully brought his hands to her hips and held them there. Daryl was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring a little as he tried to process what she'd done. He stared up into her face, his eyes questioning her.

She took a deep breath a finally voiced the thoughts that had been torturing her since the moment he stepped into her cell. "If you want to stay," she said, her words hushed. "I think we can help each other." Her hands were gently rubbing his, keeping them pressed to her hips.

Daryl held back a growl that was forming in his chest. He liked the warmth of her hands…the pressure as she forced him to grip her hips. She was standing close enough for him to feel her body heat. He tried to control his breathing as he studied her face. "What'd ya have in mind?" he asked, his voice low and rasping. He let his need course through him and began massaging her hips.

Carol closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of his hands on her body. She let her own hands move away when she realized that she no longer needed to hold him in place. Groaning softly, she bit her lip again. Maybe she couldn't tell him exactly what she wanted, but she could show him. Holding her breath, Carol reached for her belt buckle. With shaking fingers, she unfastened it and then jerked the leather quickly through her belt loops. It fell to the floor, along with her knife…the metal striking the ground with a soft _clink_. Before she could lose her nerve, Carol's hands returned to her waistband where she pushed the button through the hole and began to tug her zipper down. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she stopped, embarrassed, and tried to regain control of herself.

Daryl could see how much she was struggling; he wanted to take the pained expression away from her face. With the tip of his tongue resting between his lips, he reached for her zipper and slowly pulled it the rest of the way down, revealing a pair of blue, cotton panties. As eager as he was to expose more of her skin, his eyes flicked to her face, seeking permission.

Carol took a shaky breath and nodded. Satisfied with her answer, the hunter gripped her waistband hard and began working the cargo pants down her hips. A small gasp escaped her when she felt his knuckles brush her bare skin.

The hunter had to force himself to keep going; he wanted to stare at those damn panties…he was leaning in, close enough to catch her scent, and it was making him rigid. But he knew that he needed to get her pants down. He slid them along her pale thighs…lower, to her knees. Carol helped him from there. She braced one hand on his shoulder and used the other to get the stubborn fabric down and off the ends of her feet. She kicked the pants away, the material scraping lightly on the floor. Standing in her underwear, Carol folded her arms across her chest and waited.

_Maybe he's rethinking this…._

Daryl's eyes traveled up and down the length of her pale, slender legs. He could feel his need building. Hungry for skin…for contact, his fingers curled around her panties. His eyes sought hers, and she smirked down at him…her nerves giving way to a crippling desire. She felt her breath catch as he pulled her panties down to her thighs. The motion of his hands stopped when her core came into view. With parted lips and heavy lids, he stared at the part of her he never thought he'd see. Carol took a step back, laughing lightly at the dazed look on his face. Feeling restless, she worked the panties the rest of the way down, flicking them off the end of her feet.

Daryl was at a loss for words. His brain was trying to puzzle out how they'd reached this point. Her arms were still folded across her chest as she moved to stand between his legs. The hunter couldn't take his eyes away from her core….but he sensed that he needed to act. Unsure of what else to do, he reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle just as Carol had done moments ago. The clinking of the metal, and the sound of leather being pulled through the straps made her core ache. He let the belt fall to the floor and then reached for his zipper. Before he could go any further he swallowed hard and glanced at the white sheet that hung across the cell door for privacy. There was a hint of fear reflected in his eyes when he turned back to face Carol.

She understood; his concerns were valid. The cells offered the first semblance of privacy that the survivors had known since things first fell apart…but they still shared a cell block…and sound seemed to echo off the concrete walls with startling clarity. Desperate to relieve the stabbing pain between her legs Carol turned, walking away from him. He stared hard at her ass, wondering if it had always been as firm as it was now…he wanted to know what it felt like. She wandered out of sight and he could hear her rummaging through one of her bags. When she returned to stand between his legs, she held two clean rags…one in each hand. Smirking and blushing she held one out to him. Daryl reached for the cloth, a look of confusion on his face. Not trusting herself to explain in words, she kept her eyes on his as she reached up and placed the second cloth between her teeth; she then tied the loose ends at the back of her neck, forming a crude gag.

Daryl was stunned for a moment… He couldn't believe what she'd done…or that any of this was happening. He held his own rag in his hands and stared at the woman he thought he knew. There was color in her cheeks and he liked the way that the gag looked between her lips. There was something about it…about that the fact that she was willing to restrain herself to some extent…restrain _both of them_, in order to move forward…it made him throb within the confines of his jeans…and he could feel moisture beading at the head of his cock. Following her lead, Daryl held the cloth in his teeth while he tied the loose ends at the back of his neck. It was uncomfortable, but that only added to his arousal. He growled softly as he returned his attention to his fly and worked the zipper down.

Carol was getting wet as she watched him. The black gag in his mouth…the way his skin shone with sweat…the dark trail of hair below his navel… It was slowly driving her crazy. And then his zipper was down and he pushed the faded jeans low on his hips, freeing his cock. His chest was heaving as he stared at her.

She felt her mouth go dry when she saw his manhood. The thickness of it made her hurt and she could feel wetness beginning to seep from between her legs. She could hardly imagine what it would be like to have him inside her…but she suspected that there would be pain.

The hunter leaned back as he stared at her. His fingers curled anxiously around the edges of the chair. Knowing that there could be no more delays…no more doubts…Carol walked towards him and carefully straddled his knees. Her palms were resting on his damp chest as she leaned in and whispered to him. "_Fast_…_and quiet_." The words were muffled by the rag in her mouth, but he heard them.

Daryl grunted through his gag, nodding. His eyes flicked to her core. Carol smirked, lifting her hips. She had one hand gripping his strong shoulder while the other traveled down between them, wrapping securely around his shaft. The hunter's eyes slammed shut and he seemed to whine. Carol marveled briefly at the feeling of him in her hand, but then remembered her own words…

_Fast…_

With her heart hammering uncontrollably in her chest, she moved the head of his cock to her entrance. Bracing herself, she slowly let her body sink down onto his shaft. The metal chair groaned under the weight of their bodies, but they were too lost to hear the sound. Carol couldn't breathe as he filled her. He was so stiff, painfully hard…and his swollen cock was pushing up into her center. Her wetness helped him work his way inside and her walls were forced open. She was sinking down so slowly, relishing every solid inch of him as he throbbed and twitched inside her. Carol felt that he might break her.

Daryl's breathing was shallow and his eyes were slammed shut as he felt the slick warmth of her pussy surrounding him. When the head of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscles at her entrance, he worried that the sensation would be enough to make him come. It had been so long and he was desperate for release. Her narrow core was slowly widening, allow him in, but Daryl was impatient. Growling through his gag, he gripped her hips hard and forced her body down onto his.

Carol couldn't help the sharp cry of pain that escaped when she felt Daryl slam her down onto his dick. Their hips were finally flush, and he was completely buried in her center. It hurt, but Carol never wanted the feeling to go away. She felt full, _wanted_, filthy…_incredible_. The blunt head of his cock had nearly reached her cervix and a powerful ache was already building inside her. Her body needed time to adjust, but Daryl couldn't wait.

With his strong hands still on her hips, he held her down and bucked up into her. Carol clawed sharply at his chest and snarled. Her nails stung, but the pain only seemed to make him harder. She could feel his shaft rubbing against her walls, creating friction. The hunter locked eyes with her, his hair already plastered to his brow. "_Thought ya said fast 'n quiet_?" he growled under his breath.

Carol was still reeling from the feeling of him bucking up into her center but she made herself answer. "I _did_." she managed, her walls constricting around him.

Daryl cocked his head to the side and smirked around his gag. "_C'mon then_."

The combination of his voice and the look on his face made more wetness seep from her core; the added moisture seemed to help her sink down even further. Carol loved the feeling of straddling him…loved the fact that he was keeping her wide open. Her legs were spread to allow him in and she rocked her hips, making him jerk underneath her.

"_Fuck_…" he growled, grateful that the rag was muffling the sound.

Carol wound her arms around his neck and rocked her hips again.

"_Christ_…" he snarled.

Daryl had to close his eyes as he felt her walls massage his swollen shaft. He wanted so badly to come. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been inside a woman…and he'd certainly never been ridden like a damn horse before…but the sensation of being buried between her legs…pushing up into her pussy…was making his cock drip. And when she moved on top of him….it was everything he didn't know he needed. His hands moved back and forth from her hips to her ass as he grunted in her ear. "_Keep goin'_…._faster_."

Carol nodded, her fingers pulling at the ends of his hair. She felt feverish with her shirt still on…the heat was overwhelming, but there was something sexy about the fact that they were both partially dressed. Tugging sharply at his hair and clawing his neck she moved herself up and down his hard-on. She couldn't believe the intensity of the friction as he slid through her core and then pushed back in…almost hitting the top of her every time she sank down.

Daryl knew that they were supposed to keep the noise down but he couldn't help groaning as she fucked him. Each time she lowered her hips, he countered her movements by bucking up hard…his chest heaving. He gripped her ass, loving the firmness of it in his palms. The cell had been hot before but now Daryl was fighting to breathe. The sheen of sweat was getting thicker on their bodies and he felt lightheaded. They were panting into the crooks of each other's necks and the hunter didn't know how much longer he would last. The way that her walls hugged him…it made him want to push her onto the floor and drive himself into the delicious heat between her legs.

Carol was getting weak…her insides already starting to quiver, but she had to keep going. She wanted to feel him come. The feeling of his hands on her ass made her walls open even wider and she began to lose control. She was operating on pure need as she bounced on top of him. Hips rising and sinking in rapid succession. Her heart was thrumming violently and she bit down hard on her gag. She pushed herself, moving up and down, breathing hard…sweat trickling down her spine. The feeling of his cock in her core was maddening. Despite her own warnings, she'd begun muttering through the cloth between her teeth. "_God…..dammit….Daryl….yeah….yeah….yeah….there….please….fuck…..harder_."

The hunter's dick was throbbing painfully inside her and he was convinced, each time she moved, that the sensation would drive him over the edge. It was difficult to make out her words through the gag, but he heard her. With a strong grip on her hips, he began bucking harder and faster, forcing his shaft up into the tight heat of her core. Her body almost seemed to cling to him each time he slipped inside…and it only made him want to push harder…he wanted to break her.

She heard him grunting as he fucked her…his body working hard under hers. With her arms still wrapped around his neck, and her eyes closed, Carol rocked against him. Her toes were curling as her body began to tense. Her pussy squeezed him every time he thrust up into her wetness. He was jerking under her, straining to go as deep as he could. He was ruthless, forceful as he made her move on top of him. Her walls were being stretched, forced open by his long, thick shaft and the hardness of it was making tears well in the corner of her eyes. But she wanted it…wanted him. Desperate for release, she picked up the pace, riding him hard. The chair was creaking beneath them, threatening to give way, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was friction, pressure, pain and heat.

Daryl's teeth were clenched tightly around the cloth in his mouth as he pushed himself into Carol's core, again and again and again. He was getting frustrated…he wanted her to finish. He wanted to know what it felt like to be inside a woman when she comes. So he held himself back and continued to work her body, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. He thrust his hips up, as fast and as hard as he could, hoping to hit the spot that made her weak.

Carol was getting dizzy with pleasure, her body in sensory overload. Buried in the crook of his neck, she pulled his scent deep into her lungs and held it there, heightening her own arousal. She could tell that he was getting impatient. His movements were almost violent and he was so rigid inside her. Opening herself up to all the pleasure he could give her, Carol spread her legs just a fraction of an inch wider and felt his manhood slide into the deepest part of her heat…the head of his cock hitting a place that made her entire body tremble. With her mouth open in a silent scream, Carol's insides tensed…her walls crashing around him as her orgasm struck in the form of a hot, wet, spasm. Her muscles seemed to convulse rapidly, clenching and unclenching the still swollen shaft that filled her pussy. As her release washed out around him, Carol groaned and continued bucking her hips. Every thrust seemed to amplify her pleasure and her climax became all consuming…making her body lock up around him. Her passage became painfully tight, narrow…but Daryl wasn't done with her and he forced his hips up, pushing through her trembling core.

When the hunter felt her pussy convulse around him, he snarled into the crook of her neck. It was so sudden, and the muscles so strong….that he nearly bit through the rag. He was massaging her ass roughly as he continued to fuck her…relishing the orgasm he'd given her. He realized that she was still moving up and down, riding him, seeking deeper penetration…and he wanted to give her whatever she needed. If he could send her into a stronger climax, or a second climax, he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen. But the slickness was proving too much. She slid up and down his shaft so easily now that she'd come…and the way she moved, slipping, sinking….it was making his dick jerk within the confines of her walls. He could hear her groaning in pleasure each time his shaft filled her, and the sound was sending him over the edge. Holding onto her ass and clenching his jaw, he began thrusting as hard as he possibly could…fucking her senseless. Soon, she stopped riding him and he knew that she was too weak. A morbid satisfaction settled over him as he realized that he'd finally broken her. There would be no more tension in her muscles, no more resistance…he could go as hard and as deep as he wanted. Clawing desperately at the soft flesh of her ass, Daryl pushed himself up into the deepest part of her wet core and finally let himself come. He forced her to move on top of him, up and down, over and over, those soft, trembling walls massaging him and milking him of his orgasm as his throbbing cock finished spurting…his hot seed filling her.

Carol couldn't see straight…she couldn't tell up from down and she sure as hell couldn't feel her legs. All she knew was that Daryl had pushed her through her first orgasm, sending her into a second, crippling, all-consuming climax…the sensations had been so powerful that she'd blacked out…at least that's what she thought happened. Carol couldn't be sure. She blinked several times, and the grey walls of the cell slowly came back into focus. Her mouth was dry and the haze in her mind was beginning to clear. His scent was all around her and she smiled. Unlocking her stiff arms from around his neck, she reached up and untied her gag, letting the now damp cloth drop to the floor. From her place on his lap, she stared lazily down at the rag and smirked, wondering how much good it had actually done. She could feel Daryl panting heavily against her shoulder and she carefully untied his gag as well, pulling it away from his mouth.

Grateful to be rid of the damn thing, Daryl licked his chapped lips and groaned, his hands weakly squeezing her ass. Carol chuckled lightly, pushing him back, easing them apart so that they could look at one another. His face was flush and dark hair was plastered to his brow…his temples. His usually keen, blue eyes looked drugged. and Carol smiled at him. She couldn't recall a time when she'd ever felt as satisfied as she did in that metal chair with Daryl.

He smirked back at her, his hands moving from her ass to her waist. As his breathing began to slow, the hunter frowned at her shirt.

"What?" Carol asked, chuckling.

He snorted, his fingers inching under the hem and traveling smoothly up her stomach until he found her breast; he gave the bare flesh a gentle squeeze. "Next time…this shit needs to go." he growled softly.

Carol's lips parted in amusement, her head tilting to the side. "Next time?" she asked, smirking at him.

Daryl blushed, realizing that he'd just assumed she'd want to do it again.

"What makes you think there's going to be a next time?" she asked, teasing.

He looked away for a moment, his shoulders shrugging. "Just figured…." he gnawed his lip before he got the courage to meet her gaze again. "Seemed like ya enjoyed it."

Carol couldn't help it; she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his chest as she laughed. "_It seemed like I enjoyed it…_" she echoed.

The hunter gave her breast another squeeze, making her sit up. She was smirking at him, her face almost glowing. "What tipped you off?" she chuckled.

The corner of Daryl's mouth hitched up in a smirk and he felt himself blush again.

She had one hand playing with the ends of his hair at the base of his neck, while the other moved slowly up and down his slick chest. The feeling of that damp skin beneath her fingertips was turning Carol on again and she found that she was already looking forward to 'next time.'

Staring at the woman who still sat in his lap…connected to him…the hunter grew concerned. "I didn't hurt ya, did I? If I did…I'm sorry….I just…"

Carol shook her head, smiling at him. "Stop. I'm fine. Better than fine…" Her eyes were on his mouth and suddenly, she felt his lips pressing into hers. She was surprised, but adjusted to the feeling quickly, her mouth working softly against his. The kiss was awkward, unexpected…wet, but it still made Carol's heart beat faster. When they separated, he was staring at her…his eyes questioning whether or not he'd crossed a line.

Carol reached up, her fingertips gingerly touching her lips. She hadn't counted on that. It was just supposed to be release…an even trade…just sex. But when he kissed her…she didn't pull away. It felt right…_good_. It was definitely new, and strange, but good. As a smile spread across her face, Carol kissed him again. She could feel him smirking against her lips and they broke for air, studying one another. Daryl's hands slid to her waist where he held her carefully, keeping her in his lap. "Think we mighta been too loud?" he asked

She laughed. "I really don't care." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him long and hard. And as her warm tongue slipped into his mouth, Daryl couldn't help but think that that was the best damn haircut of his life.

**Welllll, ahem….I think I might be getting the hang of this smut thing. ; ) I don't smoke…but I might start…lol. As always, I aim to please and I hope you guys had fun with this! I think Carol and Daryl deserved some afternoon delight. I also have fun writing humor and I thought that the conversations between the group members were kinda funny : ) I'm still working on requests, but feel free to send new ones via pm! If anything tragic happens in this mid-season finale, I will definitely be in need of support from fellow Caryl shippers! If you liked this, please tell me why in the reviews!**

**-Sami**


	4. Persuasion

**Hello again : ) Thanks so much for the awesome reviews to chapter 3! I definitely had fun with that one and it seems like you guys did too! Kudos to Whoneedsasword for putting that idea in my head : ) Today, I'm posting a request from Dixonrocks. She wanted to see Daryl and Carol searching for Beth, and wanted Daryl to convince Carol that he digs her…not Beth. I did my best and I hope you all enjoy the results! I threw in a little badassery because I like seeing our couple in action! Also…feels! Also… cigarette warning**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead…at least not in real life….**

**Chapter 4: Persuasion**

Every step sent jolts of pain up Carol's legs, making her knees ache. She wasn't sure how long they'd been walking. It seemed like hours had passed since their car ran out of fuel. The asphalt was hard, unforgiving as they made their way into the city. Carol's feet were sore and her entire body felt weak…battered, but she wouldn't allow herself to complain. Instead, she wiped the sweat from above her lip and hefted the load she carried on her back. If Daryl could make this journey without griping…so could she.

The hunter hadn't said much since they started on this mission to find Beth, and Carol hadn't pressed him. She understood how important this was…what it meant to him. She knew that he just wanted to find the girl alive…to finally bring someone home in one piece. Despite all the time that had passed since the farm…and all the hardships they'd endured, Carol knew that he'd never forgiven himself for what happened to Sophia. The memory seemed to chill her for a moment. He wasn't responsible for what happened on the farm; no one could've known…and she was sure that there was nothing he could've done to stop Beth from being taken. He hadn't gone into detail about what happened to the girl and Carol was afraid to delve too deeply into a subject that was still so painful for the hunter. So they walked in silence; the only sound came from their boots scuffing the asphalt.

The late afternoon sun was glaring down at them without mercy. Never allowing themselves to relax, Carol and Daryl kept their eyes open…constantly glancing left…right, scanning their surroundings for any signs of life. The stillness of the city seemed strange; each time they rounded a corner, she half-expected to come face to face with a herd. But they'd been lucky so far…only coming across a few stray walkers…nothing the two of them couldn't handle. As she walked alongside him, Carol occasionally glanced at Daryl's face from the corner of her eye. His expression was almost blank…his jaw set hard, and his mouth a thin line. She knew that a thousand thoughts must be churning in his skull. Carol had faith in Daryl's tracking abilities, but she felt that in a city the size of Atlanta…there was no telling how long it might take them to find Beth…and she didn't intend to spend their entire journey in somber silence. She was roused from her thoughts when the hunter's footsteps suddenly stopped. "Something wrong?" she asked.

He grunted, dropping to a crouch. They were concealed behind a drugstore and Daryl took a moment to shrug his bag off his shoulder. Carol was nervous. Despite her own exhaustion, she didn't feel comfortable stopping like this…not when they were exposed…in the open. She clutched her rifle, her blue eyes darting nervously around the small parking lot they'd found themselves in.

"Here," said Daryl.

She glanced down at him and saw that he was holding up a water bottle. He took a quick swig from it before nudging her leg. "Go on." he grunted.

Carol accepted the offering and lifted the bottle to her lips. When the lukewarm liquid hit her tongue, she wanted to groan. They didn't have much in the way of provisions and it was the first drink either of them had had all day. She only allowed herself to take a small sip before handing the bottle back to him. "Thanks." she said.

"Sure ya got enough?" he asked

She nodded and continued to scan their surroundings. As he tucked the bottle back into his bag, Daryl eyed her. He saw the way her fingers were curled so tightly around the rifle…and her eyes never seemed to linger on one thing for more than a few seconds. She was anxious and he understood. They'd been making their way into the city for several hours and their energy was running low; he knew that they needed to rest…even if it was just for a few minutes. They needed to stop, breathe, and get some relief from the heat. He slumped to the ground and leaned back against the building. Bringing his knees up, he let one arm drape across them while his other hand went to his hair.

Carol lips parted when she noticed him. "What are you doing? Shouldn't we keep moving?" she asked.

Daryl sighed, his eyes closing as he massaged his temple. "Need a minute."

Realizing that they couldn't move forward until he was ready, Carol finally gave in and shrugged the heavy pack off before easing down to sit beside him. "You okay?" she asked as she let her head fall back to rest against the wall.

"I'm good." he said, his voice betraying his fatigue. They'd spent the night driving and when the car finally sputtered to a stop, they'd left it behind…not allowing themselves to slow down. She knew their energy was all but sapped…she just didn't want to stop until he was okay with it. So they'd pushed themselves, jogging…then walking when they couldn't jog anymore..their pace had been lagging and it seemed to Carol that they'd finally reached a breaking point…at least for the time being. Despite their lack of food, water, and shelter…Carol knew that she had to do something to comfort him; she needed to help him…keep him going. Licking her dry lips and staring out at the empty street, she offered the only solace she could think of. "We'll find her."

Daryl's eyes eased open as he glanced at the woman beside him. There was a crease in his brow and he wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly.

Turning her head to meet his gaze, Carol forced a tired smile. "We're gonna find her." she repeated softly.

The hunter felt his chest tighten. Up until now, his own determination was the only thing spurring him on…but knowing that Carol believed it…hearing her say it _out loud_…it meant everything. He gnawed his lip as he fought to control the feelings warring inside him. He'd failed so many times. He hadn't gotten to Merle in time….he hadn't been able to find Sophia…but despite it all, Carol still believed in him. No one had ever trusted Daryl…nobody had ever placed faith in him. He looked at her and wondered what he'd done to earn her trust. It had been reckless of him to take off after the car without any thought or hesitation…but having Carol with him gave the hunter strength. She was an ally, a capable fighter, and he was glad that it had been her in the passenger's seat when they sped off into the night. Not knowing how to voice the thoughts that were spinning in his head, Daryl cleared his throat and rubbed his tired eyes.

As they sat in silence, Carol stared down at the rifle resting in her lap. She could sense the hunter's crippling doubt…the pain he was in. It suddenly occurred to her that this journey might mean more to Daryl…that it might be more than a matter of bringing home a lost member of their family. Her lips parted slightly and she gripped the rifle tighter. The thought seemed strange…but she supposed it wasn't entirely absurd. Maybe Daryl didn't think of Beth as just another survivor. She knew they'd spent time together after the prison was taken…just the two of them…. Carol's brows knit together as she entertained the thoughts in her head.

_Does he….is there more to the two of them?_

Something about the realization startled her. It was difficult for her to imagine the hunter forming a romantic attachment to anyone…he'd always been so guarded…tending to withdraw into the safety of himself…never allowing anyone to get too close. She didn't know why the idea of him and Beth seemed so unexpected to her, but it did…and there was something troubling about it.

_You're being ridiculous…it's none of your business._

Carol didn't have any claim on him. She might say they were friends…maybe the term partners was more accurate. They fought well together; they _respected_ one another…and for the longest time, that was more than enough. Staying alive…that's what mattered, and Daryl and Carol had proven that they were more than capable. But there were times, granted they were few and far between…times that Carol couldn't help but wonder what the point of it all was. On nights that she'd lain awake in her bunk in her prison cell, she'd silently asked herself why they fought so hard. It seemed to her that all they were doing was breathing…and running. Some days…she felt as though her body was simply going through the motions…as if living were nothing more than a habit. In moments of weakness, she longed for a reason…something to make it all worthwhile. Every drop of blood she'd spilled, and every loss she'd suffered, she wanted to know that it hadn't been in vain. Somewhere along the line, the group members had become her family; they weren't just people. She valued her connections with them…but none seemed to matter more than the one she shared with Daryl. Carol felt that they understood each other, and that wasn't a small thing. It was difficult to accept that the hunter may have found his reason…his motivation elsewhere… Reaching up to rub the back of her neck, Carol decided to break the silence. "So it was just you and her…" she said without looking at him.

Daryl's seemed to tense when he heard the question. He glanced at her, one hand still tangled in his hair. "What?"

Carol swallowed hard, trying not to give herself away. "After the prison."

The hunter sighed. "Yeah. Shit started goin' south…everybody took off…scattered." his voice was low as the images replayed in his mind.

"I'm glad you two made it out." she said softly.

Daryl's eyes narrowed; he sensed there was something she wasn't saying. "We were together for a while…"

Carol nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"We found this house…piece of shit…way out in the woods." He gnawed his lip for a moment. "Only stayed a couple hours."

"What happened?" she asked.

Daryl ran a broad hand over his face before letting it drop to his lap. He wasn't proud of how he and Beth had behaved that night. They'd been reckless…stupid. It was a damn miracle the house hadn't burned down around their drunk asses. "We got into some moonshine…" he grudgingly admitted.

Carol's lips parted in awe as she turned to stare at him. "You what?"

"We got shit-faced. It was stupid…but she was goin' on about her daddy…'n about all ya'll…we got to thinkin' bout all the folks we thought was dead…'n that moonshine started lookin' better 'n better."

Carol couldn't believe that they'd gotten themselves drunk… If walkers had found them.. The thought was too much for her and she blinked, forcing it out of her mind. "What made you leave?"

Daryl rubbed his jaw and sighed. "We were comin' down…slow. 'N that damn house…." he shook his head. "We got it into our heads that we should burn the thing down…"

Carol's breath caught when she remembered the smoke…the thick grey column spiraling into the air…she'd seen it when she and Tyreese reached the grove.

_They were that close…_

"I….I don't know what to say…" Carol admitted, one hand going to her temple as she tried to process what he'd told her.

Daryl bowed his head in shame. "Ya ain't gotta say nothin'…it was stupid. Coulda got our asses killed."

After several seconds, Carol felt as though she could talk again. "Where did you go…after that?"

"Couple places," he answered, his voice low. "Never stayed more than a night in any of 'em…till we found this house…funeral home." There was a sharp pang of guilt stabbing at his consciousness as he remembered the screeching tires of the car that Beth had been taken in.

Carol decided not to think too hard about the fact that the two of them had spent their nights and days together.

_Drinking apparently…_

"At least you weren't alone…" she added, keeping her blue-grey eyes on her rifle.

Daryl couldn't be sure…but he thought he heard pain in her voice. He didn't understand. After staring at her for several minutes and taking note of her somber expression, Daryl wiped some of the sweat from his brow and spoke. "Why'd ya say it like that?" he asked.

Shaken suddenly from her thoughts, Carol looked at him. "What?"

"Jus' now…" he said. "Bout me 'n Beth…"

Carol didn't know how to answer him. She hadn't meant to imply anything…to let her true thoughts come through in her tone. Slowly shaking her head, Carol scratched at her scalp. "I didn't mean…I'm….it's nothing." She shrugged, looking away.

"Naw; you're the one that wanted to talk…might as well go on and say what ya mean." he said, irritation creeping into his voice.

Carol sighed. "We should keep moving." She braced one hand on the asphalt and tried to stand, but Daryl reached for her arm.

"What'd ya mean?" he growled softly.

Frustrated, hurt, and ashamed of her own weakness, Carol pulled away from his grasp and stood. "We've only got a few hours of daylight left; we need to find a place for the night." She stooped to retrieve her back pack but Daryl snatched it away from her.

"Ain't goin' nowhere till ya tell me what ya meant…" he was glaring at her.

Unwilling to have this conversation, Carol reached for the bag. "We don't have time for this Daryl…we…" but before she could finish her sentence…the blood froze in Carol's veins. She could see a small group of walkers rounding the corner, heading straight towards them. Adrenaline rushed into their hearts and they both released their holds on the back pack. Moving to stand side by side, Daryl and Carol forgot their argument and readied themselves for battle. The hunter slung his bow off his shoulder and raised it, taking aim. Wanting to make quiet kills, Carol hefted the rifle onto her back and opted to pull the long dagger from its sheath on her belt. Her fingers curled tightly around the handle and she pulled a deep breath into her lungs.

The six walkers were stumbling in their direction, their feet dragging…rasping growls slipping through broken teeth. Carol and Daryl glanced at each other from the corners of their eyes. "You ready?" he asked under his breath.

"I gotta be." she answered. With that, the two survivors advanced on their targets. Daryl raised his bow, lining up the first shot. He squeezed the trigger with a grunt and sent an arrow speeding towards the closest walker. The corpse's mouth was open in an ugly snarl as the bolt lodged itself in the creature's skull…the shaft protruding from between the walker's eyes. The body quickly slumped to the ground but the other monsters weren't deterred. Their grey arms were outstretched, fingers curling like claws, grasping at empty air. The small group began to break apart as some moved towards Daryl and the rest staggered in Carol's direction. The hunter was moving back, trying to put more space between him and the walkers. But Carol needed to be close…gritting her teeth and steeling her nerves she lunged for the nearest body. She put all her strength into the motion as she lifted her arm and drove the shining point of the blade into the walker's temple. Bone gave way, crunching under the intensity of the impact and she felt the knife slide into the rotten brain tissue…thick, tainted blood burst from the wound, splattering her wrist and neck. The eerie light seemed to fade in the creature's eyes and it sank to the ground, taking Carol with it. But she was strong and she wrenched the weapon free, almost stumbling backwards in the process.

Blood was pounding in her ears and her chest was heaving. She could hear Daryl shouting from somewhere nearby, but she couldn't make out the words. All that mattered was staying alive. More walkers were closing in on her and she wasn't about to die in some drugstore parking lot. Snarling she drove her blade into the eye socket of the nearest corpse, making it hiss and shriek. Her blow wasn't enough to stop it and the creature stumbled towards her, saliva dripping from between its yellow teeth. Her muscles went rigid and she pushed harder, driving the weapon in deeper until it struck the soft tissue that made the moaning stop. But then the large walker was falling forward…the dead weight coming down on Carol, slamming her back into the pavement. She cried out in pain when her body collided with the asphalt and she frantically began to struggle but the corpse had her trapped. Breathing hard, and pushing back with everything she had, Carol fought to free herself. Her lungs were burning as she tried to breathe and the muscles in her arms were quivering as she pushed against the dead thing's shoulders. Through the rushing of blood in her ears, she could hear shuffling footsteps as more walkers came towards her. Blood was trickling out around the knife that was still embedded in the walker's eye…the thick, scarlet drops were landing with a _pit pat_ sound on Carol's chest.

Daryl swung his bow in an arc, the weapon striking one of the walkers in its jaw. The creature's head was jerked suddenly to the side, and several bloody teeth flew from its mouth, clattering to the ground…rolling across the pavement. Slack-jawed, and with a terrible gurgling sound coming from its throat, the walker continued moving towards its prey. It was reaching out, seeking flesh, but Daryl grunted, kicking the thing hard in the chest. When the corpse hit the ground, the hunter dropped quickly to his knees and brought the stock of his bow down, slamming it into the creatures skull. There was a sickening crack and blood began flowing in thick streams from the walker's nose and mouth…dribbling down the sides of its sunken face. Knowing that the fight wasn't over, Daryl forced himself to stand. In the periphery of his vision he could see Carol struggling…she was trapped beneath a heavy corpse…and two more geeks were closing in. Clenching his teeth, he ran to her side. His strong hand clutched at the walker's shirt, forming a fist and jerking the damn thing off of her. He stumbled back with the effort.

Carol was gasping when Daryl finally freed her; she crawled towards the large walker, pulling the knife from its ruined eye socket. Bracing one hand on the asphalt, she pushed herself off the ground. Daryl was at her side but neither of them had a moment to breathe. There were two corpses left and they were closing in fast, their hunger driving them forward. A grey, rotted hand was reaching for Carol…thin fingers closing around her sleeve, but she wrenched herself away and drove the knife into the monster's forehead…the corpse froze, going rigid as a snarl died on its lips. Carol kicked at the walker, pushing it away and freeing her blade. As the body fell away, blood seemed to spray in a fine arc, spattering her shirt…the dead weight struck the ground with a heavy thud and Carol could scarcely take a breath as her heart leapt into her throat. Trembling with adrenaline and fear, she turned her head to see Daryl shoving another corpse away. The hunter was retreating, moving backwards quickly as the creature advanced. He swallowed hard, a bead of sweat slipping down his jaw-line as he squeezed the trigger, loosing his last arrow. The bolt sped past, the feathers just a green blur as the arrow buried itself in the monster's useless brain.

Breathing hard, the two survivors stood in the small parking lot and surveyed the damage. The pavement was littered with corpses…and stained with blood. An eerie stillness seemed to settle over the place as Daryl and Carol fought to catch their breath. The hunter leaned forward, bracing his palms on his thighs. Carol pulled a staggered breath into her burning chest and let the knife fall from her limp fingers. The metal struck the ground, with a _clang_. Buckling under the weight of the struggle she'd just been through, Carol slumped to the ground, bowing her head between her knees as if she were fighting against nausea. With her eyes shut tight, she tried to block out the terrible ringing in her ears.

_We're alive….we're okay….we made it…._

She tried to calm herself…but her nerves were badly frayed..her body still shaking. With her hands clasped behind her head, Carol realized what it was that scared her. She wasn't worried about her own safety…she was afraid of losing Daryl….of having to watch him die. Carol knew, in that moment, that if he'd been hurt while trying to help her…she'd never forgive herself. Overwhelmed by what had just taken place…and by the thoughts surfacing in her weary mind, Carol slammed her eyes shut tighter and fought back the tears that were threatening to spill.

The hunter spat before standing upright and running his hands through his mess of sweaty hair.

_Christ…._

He knew that between the two of them, they'd put down hundreds of geeks…fighting corpses wasn't anything new. But something about what had just happened…it struck him…unnerved him. If he'd taken even a second longer to get to her…she might've been….

_Naw…_

He wasn't going to let himself think about that. They were alive, and that's what mattered. He forced the dark thoughts out of his head and hefted the bow on his shoulder. He moved stiffly, back towards the small building. After collecting their bags, he walked in Carol's direction…only stopping when he stood beside her.

She reached out, groping for the knife until her shaking fingers closed around the handle. She'd heard his footsteps and knew he'd want to keep moving. Returning her weapon to its sheath, she lifted her chin to see him looming over her. There was a fearful expression on his face and he leaned down, offering her his hand. Humbled and grateful, Carol took the offer…her warm hand gripping his hard as he hauled her up off the ground. Together, they stood for a moment on shaking legs and took one last look around the parking lot. "You alright?" he breathed.

She managed a quick nod as she took her pack from him and slung it onto her back; she clutched nervously at the straps and waited for him to say something.

Gnawing at the corner of his lip, Daryl gestured toward the deserted street that lay ahead of them. "We gotta move…hole up somewhere for the night. Can't keep goin' like this." he sighed. He finally had to acknowledge that they were both drained. In their current state, the hunter wasn't sure they'd be able to hold their own against another group of walkers.

Carol eyed the buildings in the distance before refocusing on Daryl. "Where?" she asked.

He shrugged, scuffing his boot on the ground. "Don't know. We'll find a place." His eyes found hers and she nodded again.

Desperate for safety…for _shelter_, Daryl and Carol summoned their strength, straightened their backs and did the only thing they could; they kept moving.

Carol braced her hands on the sink and studied the woman in the mirror. She and Daryl found an abandoned law office. They had to smash the glass on the front door to get inside, but they'd worked quickly, looping phone cords around the door handles…again, and again, wrapping the wires around themselves, making sure the knots were secure. They'd grunted together as they pushed heavy filing cabinets in front of the door. Aside from a few wasted corpses littering the main hall, they hadn't stumbled across anyone…or anything. Only when they'd completed a sweep and cleared the building did Carol allow herself to retreat to the safety of the bathroom.

She's spent the last twenty minutes trying to wash dry blood off her skin. The sink was now flecked with small red spots and the waste basket was overflowing the damp, crumpled, bloody paper towels. Desperate to feel clean, Carol held another paper towel under the weak stream of running water. After wringing the flimsy material to squeeze out the excess liquid, she pressed the cloth to her neck and scrubbed gently at the last few stains. The paper quickly took on a rust-colored tint and she balled it up, tossing it into the can. After holding her hands under the trickle of water, she reached up, combing her wet fingers through her mussed hair in a feeble attempt to clean it. Realizing that she'd done all she could, Carol turned the faucet, stopping the flow of cool water. She sighed and stared at her reflection. The sun was sinking outside, but even in the dimly lit bathroom, Carol could see how tired she looked. Before she could start feeling sorry for herself, she turned away and pushed the door open, stepping out into the gloomy hall. She heard Daryl rearranging furniture in one of the offices.

The hunter was dragging a coffee table across the room, making space on the floor. There was a small couch, which he figured Carol could have, but he needed to have some room to arrange a bedroll on the floor. He finished moving the table and then looked up to see Carol lingering in the doorway. "How's it going in here?" she asked.

He wiped at his brow and blew out a breath. "It's fine. Just clearin' some space. That there's yours." he pointed to the couch.

Carol's lips parted as she hugged herself. "What? No…I don't need it…I brought a sleeping bag; I'm fine on the floor."

Daryl huffed. "Quit. Ain't lettin' ya sleep on the floor. Mind If I take that?" he gestured to her back pack that was sitting in the far corner of the room; he knew she had a sleeping bag in there.

She didn't know what to say…Daryl wasn't one for backing down when he'd made him mind up about something…and she supposed she didn't have the energy to fight with him. "Yeah," she said in defeat. "That's fine."

He nodded to her before making his way across the room. She watched as he stooped in front of her belongings and pulled the rolled sleeping bag from her pack. He walked back towards the couch and knelt to begin unrolling the sleeping bag. Carol moved to join him. When she dropped to a crouch across from him, her hands going to the bag, his brows knit together. "Ya ain't gotta…" he started to say but she didn't let him finish.

"If you're taking the floor, at least let me help you…It'll ease my conscience." she said, giving him a tired smile.

Daryl huffed, smirking at her. "Fine…let's get this done…my ass is tired."

Carol chuckled, glad that they could do this…act normal…carry on a conversation…despite the tension between them earlier in the day. She was relieved that Daryl hadn't pressed her any further about the conversation they'd started…just before they were attacked. He seemed to have forgotten it.

_That's probably for the best._

She worked with him, helping to spread the fabric out on the floor. The sun continued to sink, dipping below the horizon and it was getting harder and harder to see. Her hand brushed his as she tried to smooth the material and they both tensed at the contact. Clearing her throat, Carol stood, "I think that's as good as it's gonna get." she said. Without waiting for a response, she moved towards the couch.

Daryl squinted through the gloom, watching as she shrugged off her jacket, letting it drop. He saw her hands go to her lower back, rubbing the spot above her tailbone. Her heard her sigh and then she sank down onto the couch and worked on unfastening the straps on her boots. Carol groaned when her aching feet were finally free. She ran a hand through her hair before tossing a small cushion at the hunter. "Here." she laughed lightly.

He caught the thing before it could hit him in the face. "Thanks," he said as he eased down onto the sleeping bag and tucked the cushion under his head. Lying on his back, Daryl let his hands rest on his stomach. He had one bent knee raised as he stared up at the white ceiling.

Carol mimicked his pose, her legs going up and over the far arm of the couch…her feet hanging off the edge. She reclined, trying to get comfortable. Her body was eager for sleep, but her mind was restless. Unsure of how to voice all the things that were spinning in her skull, Carol sighed and closed her eyes.

As exhausted as they were, the survivors couldn't seem to relax…at least not entirely. Daryl was drumming his fingers on his stomach. He was unusually anxious and he sat up, pulling off his vest in the hopes of getting just a bit more comfortable. When he fell back onto the sleeping bag, he turned his head and stared at the small couch. The room was getting darker but he could still make out Carol's form. There wasn't much space between them…maybe an arm's length. He could reach out and touch her if he needed to wake her. The thought offered some small comfort and he rolled onto his side so that he could face the couch. Something was nagging at him, but Daryl was unsure about whether or not to speak his mind. He gnawed his lip, considering his options. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew he'd never get to sleep unless he said his peace. He was thankful for the surrounding gloom; it made him braver. "Carol," he growled softly.

She stiffened when she heard her own name. Her eyes eased open, adjusting to the dark, but she kept her focus on the ceiling. She didn't want to look at him. "What?" she asked.

"Need to ask ya somethin'…"

Carol ran a hand over her face, sighing. She knew what was coming and she didn't have the strength to deal with it. "Go ahead…" she said, notes of defeat and apprehension evident in her voice.

The hunter propped himself up one elbow and stared hard at the woman on the couch. "What'd ya mean before? When ya asked 'bout me 'n Beth."

Carol cupped her forehead, as if she could somehow contain the pounding in her skull. "Daryl…" she sighed. "I didn't mean anything. I shouldn't have pressed you about it…what you and Beth do…it's none of my business. I wasn't trying to pry. Can we just forget it?" she pleaded quietly.

A deep crease was forming in Daryl's brow. "What me 'n Beth _do_?" he echoed, confusion plain in his tone.

Carol bit her lip, trying to keep herself together. All she wanted was to fall asleep, replenish, and put the entire hellish day behind her. "It's fine Daryl, alright? Really. We need to rest if we plan on finding her tomorrow."

But the hunter was lost. He sensed that he was missing something…or that Carol was. Their lines had gotten crossed somehow and it was bothering him. He bowed his head, trying to puzzle out the meaning behind Carol's words.

_The hell does she think me 'n Beth do…_

The crease deepened in his brow. They were both silent and thoughts continued to race through his mind with startling speed. He considered abandoning the discussion altogether and letting sleep claim him….but then his eyes narrowed and his lips parted. Color rushed to his cheeks and the hand that was resting on the sleeping bag formed a tight fist. His heart began to beat faster and he could feel his temperature rising.

_What in the hell…._

He was in shock as he stared at the woman on the couch. "You…." he started to speak, but his temper was making it difficult for him to get the words out. "You tellin' me…" he huffed, trying to compose himself. Exhaling slowly through his nose, Daryl kept his anger in check. "You think it's like that…between me 'n her?" he growled.

Carol felt her whole body tense; she started wringing her hands.

"_Carol_." he snapped, demanding her attention.

Knowing that she couldn't ignore the man forever, she turned to face him. "What?" she said softly, wishing he would just let it go.

"Ain't nothin' goin' on between me 'n Beth. The hell makes ya think somethin' like that? That girl's family…nothin' more."

His eyes were burning into her and she didn't know what to say. "I…I'm sorry…I just thought…"

"Ya thought _what_?" he bit out.

"I don't know," she said, exasperated. "You two were on your own for a while…there's nothing wrong with it…no one would've blamed you if…."

"If _what_?" he snapped. "That what you think of me? Think I'd take advantage of that girl…just 'cause we was alone together?"

Nearing the limits of her patience, Carol sat up on the couch and glared down at him. "I _didn't_ say that…" she hissed. "I know you'd never do anything to hurt her…I just thought, maybe…since it was just the two of you…that maybe you thought of her as more than family…that's all. And like I said…it's none of my business."

Daryl sat up, his legs crossing. "She's a _kid_, Carol…" he reached out, bracing his palms on the couch, on either side of her legs….trapping her.

Carol felt foolish…not only for thinking that something might've happened between Beth and Daryl…but for letting it get to her. She meant what she said…what he may or may not have done was none of her business…she had no right to get bent out of shape over a damn theory. "I'm sorry…" she sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I wasn't trying to upset you."

It was the hunter's turn to feel guilty…he let his temper get away from him. As his breathing began to slow, he pulled his hands away from the couch and ran them through his hair. His head was starting to clear when a sudden realization caught hold of him, making his gut twist.

_It hurt her…_

The thought of him and Beth together.._._It seemed to hurt Carol… She was still sitting up, her eyes downcast. Daryl stared at her and wondered why she'd gotten so upset. He knew Carol…she was one of the strongest people he'd ever met. She'd endured the most difficult loss a person can face…the death of a child, and it hadn't been enough to break her. He'd seen her set her own problems aside, a hundred times, in order to help others. She didn't scare easy. She'd risked her life to get them all out of Terminus…but the idea of him and Beth was enough to get under her skin? It didn't make sense. He needed to know. "Carol.." he said under his breath.

She looked down at him, wondering how much further he planned to push her. "What?"

"Why's it matter?" he asked. "If I was with Beth….why's it matter?"

In that moment, Carol knew that she'd run out of excuses. She couldn't lie to him…and she couldn't get away. Even though she'd rather face a dozen walkers, unarmed, than answer his question…Carol knew that she didn't have a choice. She'd done enough running for one lifetime. Shrugging her shoulders and keeping her eyes locked on his…she gave him the only answer she had. "Because you're more than family." There was a sad smile on her lips as she waited for him to say something.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when the realization struck, Daryl was stunned. She meant something to him…he knew that…she'd always meant something. It was the sort of thing he didn't acknowledge directly…because he didn't know how…and he was too afraid to say so out loud. But she was significant…she mattered…and as he sat with her in the dark room…her words replaying in his head, Daryl thought she understood… and that she felt the same….

_More than family…_

Not knowing what else to do, he shifted so that he was kneeling…his body wedged between her legs. Carol didn't have time to stop him before he reached for her waist and pulled her to the edge of the couch. Her breath caught in her throat as he nuzzled her stomach, his arms circling her waist, keeping her close to him. As she stared down at him through the dark, Carol remembered the way he'd clung to her after Terminus…the power of his grip as he hugged her…not wanting to let her go. He was so strong that Carol tended to forget how vulnerable he could be. His walls seemed to be coming down again as he held her waist and let his head rest against her stomach. Her arms were shaking and she slowly lowered them until her fingers laced in his long hair, combing through it gently as she let him work through whatever had taken hold of him. She held her breath, afraid that the slightest sound might startle him.

The hunter rarely allowed his strength to fail him. Whether he was being _chased_, _beaten_….backed into a corner…he'd always drawn on his fortitude…physical strength and an unbreakable will. He'd clenched his fists and bared his teeth, struggling against a savage world that had only ever shown him cruelty. Daryl Dixon never went down without a fight…but _here_…alone with the person who'd come to mean so much to him, he felt that he could finally stop fighting. When she'd stared down at him, her kind blue eyes glowing in the dark…he knew that he was safe. As those soft, honest words fell from her lips, he felt his resolve crumbling. It was as if all the feelings that he'd been trying so hard to keep hidden were finally pouring out of him…and the sensation was too much…overwhelming. His barriers were falling down and he couldn't breathe. _Weak_…in need of human contact, the hunter did the only thing he could think of…he reached out for her. _She'd always been there_, but he'd never allowed himself to cross the lines that he thought existed between them. His clumsy, shaking hands gripped her waist…pulling her to the edge of the couch. He knew that he'd lost control…he had no real right to touch her, but something inside him needed that connection. He had to feel the warmth of her body against his. So, like a child, he clung to the only home he knew…his head resting against her stomach. Daryl didn't know what else to do. He could feel her legs on either side of his body…she seemed to surround him. His eyes were slammed shut, nervousness making his muscles tense, but a warm sigh passed his lips when her fingers found his hair. The shaken hunter, who'd only ever known fear and violence, found peace in the arms of a friend. His breathing was shallow, but a sense of calm seemed to be washing over him, like starlight over an empty field as he felt Carol's slender fingers combing through his tangled hair. She was so _gentle_….so careful in the way that she touched him and he was losing himself in the feeling.

Carol's chest tightened as she stared down at him. He seemed so scared…it was difficult to accept that he was the same man who'd hauled a walker's corpse off of her with brute force hours ago. All of his aggression, his _anger_…it had been replaced with raw vulnerability and all Carol wanted was to comfort him. She swallowed hard, one hand still lost in his dark hair while the other moved to the base of his neck, softly rubbing the aching muscles. The hunter groaned in contentment, the sound muffled by Carol's shirt. Wanting desperately to ease any pain he might be in, she let her hand trail from his strong shoulder, to his back, massaging the flesh that had endured so much. As his grip tightened on her waist, his fingers curling desperately around her, Carol couldn't help but think that he was a boy again…a lost child seeking the love and warmth that the world had always denied him. She cradled his head and rubbed his back; when he shuddered against her, she whispered into the dark…"It's _okay_…you're _safe_ here." She sniffed, feeling her eyes grow warm.

When he heard her sniff, Daryl's eyes opened. He blinked at the gloom and eased back so that he could look up into her face. He missed the warmth of her body, but he felt that he had to see her…he was afraid of the sadness he could hear in her voice. The hunter couldn't speak…even if he could..he didn't know what to say. All the words that were locked behind his lips…they seemed paltry…inadequate. His clear, blue eyes betrayed his fear as he stared at her. The pounding of his heart had become painful within the confines of his chest.

Carol still had one hand clinging weakly to his hair. She couldn't make herself let go…not when his eyes were fixed so intently on hers…not when their bodies were so close. She swallowed hard, her lips parting slightly. Unable to control herself, Carol leaned down…she used her grip to tug at his hair, bringing his face to hers…but she stopped when less than an inch of space remained between their lips. Their breathing had picked up….whether out of fear…or something else, Carol couldn't be sure, but they were panting…warm breath mingling in the space between them. She was clutching his damp hair tightly in her fist, and he was gripping her waist hard. There was a sense of urgency as they held on to one another and Carol's eyes searched his face, seeking permission. Daryl's lids were heavy as he stared back at her. His heart was beating so hard that it scared him, and his palms were growing damp…but despite all the sensations that were battling for his attention, the hunter knew what had to be done…an understanding seemed to pass between them. Nervous and shaking, Daryl used his strength to pull her body towards him. He heard a small gasp escape her as she slid off the couch, landing in his lap. Adrenaline traveled quickly through their veins, like lightning, shocking their hearts…they didn't have time to breathe, or second guess…the instant their bodies connected, she locked her legs around him and pulled his mouth to hers.

Daryl squeezed her waist when he felt her soft lips pressing down on his. The sweet pressure was incredible…he felt weak, dizzy, but he made himself hold on to her. She was warm, eager as her mouth worked against his. He could feel her hand clutching at the front of his shirt while the other remained in his hair. The longer they held the connection, the more lightheaded he became. A stifling warmth was spreading through him and he needed to breathe. Pulling his mouth from hers, he sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air and tried to process what was happening.

Carol's hand was traveling slowly, up and down his chest as she tried to soothe him. "Are you okay?" she breathed.

The hunter managed a nod and pulled another deep breath into his lungs.

"_We can stop_…" she offered, her tone fearful.

Daryl licked his lips and shook his head. Before she could speak again, he leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth. In his haste, he'd missed his mark, but they were eager and quickly righted themselves. Cocking his head to one side, he felt the pressure he craved…Carol's mouth met his and they both groaned. They were too lost to know how it started, but suddenly it wasn't just soft lips moving together…somewhere between the sighs and gasps, their tongues met. Warm and wet, they explored one another. Carol felt his tongue under hers and responded by rocking her hips. He grunted, clawing at her lower back. They broke apart again, breathing harder now. Sensing that they both needed more, Daryl stretched one arm out behind him, supporting himself as he eased onto his back…bringing Carol with him. Her palms were splayed on the sleeping bag, on either side of his head as she stared down at him. He looked back at her, a strange hunger reflected in his eyes. She knew what he wanted….and she wanted to give it to him…she would give him anything. She was still straddling his waist and she could feel his need beginning to build between her legs. Bending low, leaning over him, Carol savored the control. His hands were gripping her hips, urging her to move, but she remained still. The hunter's hips started to buck weakly beneath her. She let her lips hover over his without making contact. He was panting against her mouth…his lids heavy and his cheeks flushed. Carol let the sound of his strained breathing fill her ears…it gave her the strength she needed to keep going. Drawing on her courage, Carol eased back, sitting up. All of her weight was resting on his pelvis and he grunted, closing his eyes. Biting her lip, Carol reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head with shaking hands. After tossing the shirt aside, she felt terribly exposed. Gooseflesh rose on her arms the instant the cool air hit her skin.

At once anxious and excited, Carol braced her hands on his chest and leaned over him. Even through the gloom, she could see that he was struggling…his eyes slammed shut, chest heaving. "Daryl…" she said softly.

When he finally looked at her, his mouth went dry and every rational thought he'd ever had seemed to leave his head. She was above him, staring down at him like he truly mattered…like she wanted him. There was a nervous smile on her lips and her fingertips were starting to claw at his shirt. His eyes roamed from her face, down the column of her neck, lower…to the soft swells of her breasts, the delicious cleavage that was visible between the cups of her dark bra. His heart thrummed in his chest as he studied the thin straps that curved up and over her shoulders. Despite the fact that the room was blanketed in darkness, her skin seemed to glow…pale like cream, and she looked so soft. His eyes followed the curves of her cups, over and over…as if he could memorize them, his lips parting in awe. He wondered what she felt like…and whether or not she was willing to show him the tender flesh still concealed by her bra. In that moment, Daryl was convinced that he'd never wanted to touch anything so badly. The thought alone was making his breath catch and he could feel himself growing hard…warm blood pouring into his groin. His head was swimming and all that mattered was her body. His hands moved suddenly, traveling up her body until he was gripping her ribcage. Carol shivered as his fingertips pressed in hard. Giving in to the hunger that was crippling them both, she bent down, colliding with him.

She couldn't stop the groan of satisfaction as he kissed her hard. Her body's response was automatic and her hips ground slowly into his. Carol wanted to growl when she felt the hardness between her legs, pressing up into her core. But he didn't give her the change; he pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her…savoring her. His hands moved over her smooth skin, up and down, along her sides, until he gripped her hips again. The feeling of her under his hands was intoxicating and Daryl never wanted to let go. As they continued to kiss one another, they seemed to get braver…their insecurities melting away. She sucked gently at his tongue, making him buck underneath her. The hunter bit the soft flesh of her lips, catching it playfully between his teeth and applying pressure until she gasped. Carol felt a stabbing pain in her center when he bit the corner of her bottom lip. The heat between them was stifling…all consuming and they began to lose themselves. As much as he loved the taste of her…the wetness of her mouth, Daryl felt the need to explore. He leaned up, kissing the center of her chest, grunting against her skin. Carol kept a soft moan trapped behind her lips. Then his hands were moving again, traveling up her spine, giving her chills. She felt him fumbling with her bra clasp and she held her breath.

The hunter was having trouble maintaining any sort of focus. Between the pain in his groin and the desperate need to see the rest of Carol's body, he barely managed to hold the clasp in his sweaty fingers. Part of him was afraid….worried that this might be too much…that she wasn't ready. But he could hear her breathing…panting heavily, and he knew he had to keep going. The time for hesitation was gone. Muttering curses under his breath, and bucking his hips weakly out of frustration, Daryl finally felt the ends of the clasp spring apart…and his eyes caught the subtle movement as Carol's bra strap slid down lower on her shoulder.

Unable to wait any longer, Carol slipped the bra down her arms before discarding it. Her palms were flat on the sleeping bag, on either side of his head…her chest heaving as she loomed over him. Daryl's eyes sought hers for half a heartbeat but then he was leaning up, kissing her chest again. First the center, then lower…he lost himself between her breasts and Carol cried out, her eyes slamming shut. He wanted to taste her, _feel_ her…memorize her scent. One strong hand gripped her left breast and they both hissed at the contact. When he squeezed the soft flesh, Carol felt the pain between her legs grow worse. His other arm was curled around her lower back, his hand dangerously close to her ass. Carol knew, as they lay there, tangled together…that she'd never felt as alive as she did when he touched her. The feeling of his calloused hand cupping her breast was incredible and she wanted more…but she needed to let him explore…he wanted to learn her body. He handled her in a way that was almost reverent…his fingertips tracing her lines and curves, pausing to tug gently at her nipples. The sensation proved too much for them and they both whimpered. Possessed by his need, Daryl nuzzled her breasts, his scruff tickling her. She bucked against him and his tongue flicked out against her nipple, making it tighten. The small taste of her wasn't enough…Daryl licked her again…letting his warm, wet tongue follow the curve of her breast…mapping out her skin.

Carol's entire body shivered and she reached for his hair, clutching it tight and holding him against her. She loved the feeling of his warm, heavy breaths against her skin….and the moisture from his mouth…surrounding her nipple… His wet mouth worked at her body, suckling…and she swore she could feel it in the deepest part of her core. As his need took hold of him, the hunter began to mutter into her skin, growling as he moved from one breast to the other…_licking_, _sucking_, tasting the salt of her sweat. She was everywhere…seemingly all around him…flooding his senses and all he wanted was more…When he felt her fingers tug sharply at his hair, holding him against her chest, he released a heavy sigh and let his tongue travel up the dip in her cleavage. He couldn't remember ever doing this to a woman, but it felt natural…good. As much as he craved further contact, part of him was content to stay like that…lost in the softness of her breasts, gently nipping at the skin then licking as a penance…catching her nipples between his teeth, making her gasp. But Carol's hips had begun to work against his, creating a steady rhythm…_friction_… and he felt that he needed to act.

Half drunk with lust, Daryl kissed the side of her breast one last time before getting a secure grip on her body and easing her down onto her side. Carol was in a daze and had to blink several times before she realized what was happening. She still had one leg curled up and around his hip, keeping their bodies together. When her eyes found Daryl's…the intensity of his gaze startled her. Locks of dark hair were plastered to his temples and hanging in his face. His chest continued to rise and fall with each labored breath, and she watched, mesmerized as his tongue darted out over his chapped lips. Now that she knew what his tongue felt like on her body, Carol was convinced that she'd never be able to stop thinking about it. He stared at her from beneath his lashes…the look alone was enough to make Carol weak with hunger. They held each other's gazes, both of them fighting for air. Unable to restrain herself, she leaned in, kissing him hard. He responded in kind, his hips bucking weakly into hers…his strong hand at her waist…blunt nails clawing at her skin. Needing more from him, Carol pushed her hips into his and bit at his lips. He growled, kissing her as if he could devour her. She dipped her tongue into his mouth, distracting him as her fingers curled around the hem of his shirt. She began to pull the fabric up and made it all the way to his ribs before he stopped her, his hand closing around her wrist.

Their eyes locked and she worried that she'd done something wrong. But Daryl simply grunted, sitting up. Her leg fell away from his waist as she watched him. Wincing at the pain in his groin, Daryl worked quickly, undoing the buttons on his sleeveless shirt. When he'd pushed the last one through the hole he paused, glancing at Carol.

"You…you don't have to…" she breathed, knowing what he hid beneath his clothes.

But the hunter knew he needed to keep going. She was being so open with him…she'd let him touch her…._taste_ her. She was propped on her side, staring at him…her beautiful chest rising and falling as she worked to catch her breath. As Daryl watched her breasts, he felt the need to be close to her…he wanted to feel her skin, bare against his… Gnawing his bottom lip, he drew on his courage and shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. Before his nerves could get the best of him, Daryl leaned over her, kissing her. She kissed him back, moaning softly, but then her hand shot out, pressing against his chest. Carol pushed him gently away from her.

Confused, Daryl sat back on his heels and stared down at her, his brows knitting together. She smiled up at him, a look of genuine happiness on her face. He squinted through the dark and saw her hands move to her belt. She chuckled nervously, her eyes closing as she fumbled with the buckle. Color formed in her cheeks when she tugged her zipper down. Daryl was doing his best to remain still…to _wait_…his fingers drumming anxiously on his thighs. Carol finished with the zipper and held her breath as she worked the pants down to her hips, then lower, to her thighs where she stopped, her eyes easing open. She looked at Daryl, silently pleading with him to help her.

Eager to touch her again, the hunter moved so that he could grip the material and pull it down her tone yet slender legs. She trembled at the contact but managed to kick her feet, helping Daryl to get the pants the rest of the way off. He wanted to stare at her legs…admire all the pale skin that was now on display for him, but she didn't give him the chance. Pushing herself up off the sleeping bag, she knelt in front of him. In nothing more than a pair of cotton panties, Carol stared at the man she'd grown to care so deeply for. Every single nerve ending seemed to vibrate but she made herself breathe. They'd come so far and she just wanted to help him go a little bit further. Their chests were heaving as they watched each other. Swallowing hard, she reached for his waistband. He flinched, gripping her wrists. Her eyes sought his and she tried to slow her breathing. "It's okay…_let me help you_.." she whispered. With a weak nod, the hunter released her, his eyes closing and his head hanging low. With shaking fingers, she unfastened his belt…the soft _clinking_ of the metal buckle sent another chill up her spine but she had to maintain her composure…at least long enough to do this. When the loose of ends of his belt hung slack, she gripped the tab of his zipper and pulled it down, slowly and carefully. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she could hear Daryl's ragged breathing as the tiny metal teeth of the zipper separated. Her knuckles brushed against his hardness, making him jerk and then he fell onto his back…his sweaty hands reaching for his waistband and pushing the pants down his hips. Carol helped tug the material down, just as he'd done for her. She heard him groan when he was finally free of the pants. As Carol set his clothing aside, something made her freeze.

The room was dark, but it didn't matter. She could see him…the pale skin of his stomach…the dark hair below his navel…and the silhouette of his manhood resting against his belly. Carol wasn't sure what she expected, but _this_…he was everything she could've ever hoped for. The _length_…the shape and size of him made her insides tremble and she couldn't believe that it had taken them so long to reach this point. Now that she could finally see what he'd been hiding beneath his clothes, Carol felt as though every night, prior to this one, had been wasted…

_He….we could've been….._

But there was no time for that now. Carol could feel moisture between her legs and her hands began working on their own, pulling down her panties. Daryl sat up, watching her, his cock beginning to throb. He knew that he should be concerned about his nudity…that he should feel some sort of shame…Daryl had never been comfortable in his own skin, but something about being with her…she made him forget that he was damaged. Sitting up, with his legs crossed, he waited anxiously for her to slide the panties down her legs and then flick them off her feet.

There was a terrible ache in Carol's core…an emptiness that she knew only he could fill. Hungry and desperate, she moved towards him, climbing carefully into his lap. They were drawn to each other's lips, the attraction almost magnetic. Daryl's hips bucked when he felt her slickness brushing his cock. The feeling of that moisture, gliding along the length of his shaft made him restless. He was growling against her lips as he brought one large hand up, cradling the back of her head; breathing hard, he eased her back…lowering them both down onto the sleeping bag. He kept his hand at the back of her head, protecting her from the hardness of the floor beneath the thin material of the bag. Carol held his bottom lip between her teeth as his body came down on hers…They were both nervous…sweating and shaking. Carol felt the wonderful pressure of his body trapping hers and she bucked her hips up, feeling the length of his manhood as her wetness moved past it. Daryl stopped kissing her. He was propped on his elbows, staring down at her.

She raised her legs, her bent knees pressing in on either side of his hips, keeping him in place. Willing herself to relax, Carol gripped one of his strong arms while her other hand toyed absently with the long shock of hair near his left ear. As they held each other's gazes, the two survivors wondered if they should speak. Carol studied his face, smiling at all the familiar details…his scruff, the mole near his lip, the angle of his jaw….those details meant everything. As she lay underneath him, her body aching with want, and his hair between her fingers, Carol realized that she needed him…she'd needed him all along. It wasn't about release…it was about finally connecting with the person she already felt closest to. She smiled at him before turning her head and kissing one of his wrists.

Daryl swallowed hard, unprepared for the feelings that were suddenly raging inside him. As much as he wanted the woman underneath him…the hunter was still afraid…_terrified_. Carol had always been his touchstone…the voice of reason that broke through the storm of his anger…time and again. She was _always there_. He grown to think of her as a friend…which was miraculous in and of itself. Daryl could count the real friends he'd had on one hand. But then something changed. She became his family…his ally…and then she was more. He worried that if they moved forward…if they gave in and finally crossed the last line that remained between them…they could stumble into unknown territory…they could lose what it had taken two years to build. His body was hungry for hers and the warmth between her legs was inviting, but he couldn't shake his fears. He wore a pained expression as he stared down at her.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Carol pulled him down to her mouth, kissing him as if she might never get another chance. Her soft lips moved lovingly against his and her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting every part of him. Her body was beginning to writhe beneath his and she knew that she couldn't wait much longer. Daryl was tense; she could feel it in his arm where she gripped him…the muscle was seizing…locking up. But she couldn't stop kissing him, and he whimpered as her tongue massaged his. Carol was working to put all of her feelings into that kiss and her breath caught in her throat when she felt his body beginning to respond. His hands formed fists, clutching at the sleeping bag, and his hips were gently bucking down into hers. Knowing that she'd nearly broken his resolve, Carol eased their mouths apart and stared intently at him.

He was breathing hard, their lips just millimeters apart. The temperature in the dark room seemed to rise as they watched each other. "_Daryl_…" she whispered.

He swallowed hard and focused on her eyes.

She ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the ends. "It's _alright_. _We can do this_…" Tugging at him until his sweaty forehead was resting against hers, Carol took a deep breath. "_Relax…I just want to be with you_." The hunter grunted softly in response, his eyes closing. Steeling her nerves, Carol reached down between them. Daryl lifted himself slightly, giving her room as she gripped his hardened manhood. The flesh was so warm, heavy in her hand and she took a moment to savor the feeling….but when Daryl's hips bucked, she knew that she needed to keep going. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, Carol positioned him at her entrance, maintaining her grip. Just knowing that he would be inside her soon was enough to make Carol's walls open. Holding him tightly, Carol whispered into the dark, "_Now_."

Knowing that there could be no more doubt…no _hesitation_, Daryl clenched his teeth and jerked his hips. A gasp escaped him when the tip of his cock dipped inside her. Her muscles constricted instantly, tensing around the blunt head of his dick…the resistance was almost enough to push him back but Daryl was determined. The feeling of her body locking up around the head was enough to make him drip and he needed more. He needed to feel all of her. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he bucked again, forcing himself deeper. Carol's mouth was open, her back arching as she felt him penetrate her. Releasing his manhood, she brought both hands up and clawed at his shoulder blades. As her back arched, her pelvis tilted for him, allowing the length of his throbbing member to sink into her core. He continued to buck, the motions slight as he worked to restrain himself. Daryl didn't want to hurt her, but he needed to feel the warmth of her pussy surrounding his cock. A little grunt passed his lips with each motion and when he finally felt that he'd gone deep enough, he gave them both a moment to adjust.

Carol wanted to scream but there wasn't enough air in her lungs. The feeling of him between her legs left her breathless. He seemed to fill her completely but she somehow wished he could go deeper. The thickness of him made her feel as though she might break. He was so hard and all she wanted was for him to move. She wanted to feel that hardness in the deepest part of her core. Impatient, she bucked her hips up into his making them both gasp.

Daryl was focused on the way her walls gripped him, as if her body needed him. He could feel the tension in her muscles and he wondered what it would take to relive it. When she bucked, and her soft insides rubbed his shaft, Daryl whined. It was more than he could handle. Her sharp nails dug into his shoulder blades and the action made his cock harder. Knowing she would buck again if he didn't act, Daryl pulled back slightly and then jerked forward, thrusting himself back into her tight pussy. "_Godammitt_…" he breathed, his mouth going dry.

Carol was raking her nails down his back and the pain spurred him on. He bucked hard, loving the sharp cry that burst from her lips in response.

"_Please_…" she groaned, kissing his jaw.

Daryl huffed, thrusting again, making sure that every last inch of him was buried in her sex. Her walls seemed to tremble around his manhood and he wondered how long the two of them would last. She spread her legs wider for him and he felt her walls opening, giving him more room. Growling against her lips, Daryl picked up his pace. He created a steady rhythm inside her, his hips grinding into hers as he pushed himself deeper into her hot core.

Carol had lost control of her body…she was twisting and writhing underneath him..her lips moved from his jaw, to his neck as she kissed every part of him that she could reach. She loved the feeling of his swollen cock slipping inside her, the veins on his shaft pressing against her walls. She liked the hint of pain that she felt when he hit the top of her, making her entire body ache. It was pure, carnal pleasure and Carol had never experienced anything like it. Her body opened for him willingly, welcoming him in, her wetness coating the length of his member….helping him to slide back and forth… He kept himself inside her while his hips continued thrusting…but when she least expected it, he'd slip free and then push back in fully, making her arch her back and scream. Each time the tip of his cock breached her entrance it was as if he were entering her for the first time and the ring of muscles would convulse around him.

Daryl couldn't take much more. He was growling into the crook of her neck as sweat broke out on both their bodies…making them slide against each other. But he was determined to push her to her breaking point. Despite the way he was working her body…the strong, sudden thrusts that sent his cock deep into her pussy, she seemed to be getting tighter. It was getting harder for him to move inside her. He was panting against her skin as he forced himself to keep going. Her walls quivered around him and he felt the head of his cock tighten. Pushing harder, he buried himself between her legs and moaned at the feeling of so much wetness surrounding him.

Every move drove Carol closer to the edge and she could feel herself getting weaker. She couldn't believe what he was doing to her body. She let one hand travel up and down the length of his sweaty back while the other remained tangled in his damp hair…nails clawing at his scalp while he forced his manhood into her center. Even though she knew it would be over soon…that she couldn't fight it much longer, there was a part of Carol that wished they could keep going. She wanted to stay like that…trapped underneath him, his dick sinking into her core, strong and hard…pulsing and throbbing, making her hurt in all the right places. A sudden thrust roused her from her thoughts and she countered the movement by bucking her hips up into him…a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through her.

Daryl wiped the sweat from his eyes and stared down at her. She was writhing, struggling beneath him and when he saw her eyes slam shut, he knew that he was doing something right. Before he could stop himself, the words were tripping off the end of his tongue. "_You close_?"

Carol worked on keeping her legs open for him; she wanted him to go as deep as he could. "_I'm….I….I_….." but she couldn't finish the thought. His dick was moving quickly, in and out of her tight passage and the sensations seemed to rob her of her ability to form sentences. All that mattered was the delicious motion of his hips between her legs. Her core was growing painfully tight, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. He simply grunted at her, his hips jerking, forcing his long cock up into her center. With every labored breath, their bodies seemed to work harder…faster, as if they were both desperate for release.

Despite the fact that he was buried in her pussy and she was groaning his name, Daryl still had trouble believing that any of this was really happening. It had been so long since he experienced any sort of physical pleasure and after only minutes of being inside Carol, he was having to fight with himself to keep from letting go. Everything about it was perfect…the way she smelled, the sounds she made, the way her core sucked him in and held him, the way her body responded to his. She was warm, wet, willing and seemed to only want more. She was bucking faster now, urging him to move with her and Daryl knew she must be nearing her peak. The realization that _he'd_ done that to her…that he was _still_ doing it to her, made fresh moisture form at the tip of his cock. He bit his lip and worked harder, forcing his cock into her narrow passage.

Carol gasped when he found her g-spot. Her body arched up into his and a single word fell from her lips, over and over…. "_Yes…yes…yes…yes…yes….yes….yes…yes_…" She pulled his hair and clawed his back.

Daryl felt her pussy squeeze him hard and sensed that there must've been a change in her. She was losing control underneath him but he wanted to drive her over the edge. "_C'mon_…" he urged, sinking deep into her core, making her shake. He was thrusting harder now, throwing the lower half of his body into the motion, using all of his strength to make his partner come undone. He slid through her wetness and hissed at the sensation, his thick cock rubbing her walls. His breathing was ragged as he began to move faster…claiming the woman underneath him. He pushed and pulled, slipping inside her again and again and again. Each time he pushed in, she felt tighter…each time, the ring of muscles at her entrance nearly refused to let him in, but he was addicted to the feeling of being buried in her pussy and he would stay inside of her as long as he could.

Carol couldn't breathe..she couldn't think, and her vision was going blurry. The only thing she was sure of was the powerful force between her legs…the pressure that was driving her crazy. He was driving himself into her core with alarming force and speed, taking all the air from her lungs. It didn't matter how hard she bucked against him, or how much she arched her back…she couldn't get enough of him. Her slickness was helping him to move within her walls and she was amazed that he was still so stiff…his hard-on slipping all the way into her sex and making her quiver. Carol loved the way his swollen member filled her core and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of his thrusts. She angled her hips up, one last time, her legs spreading and her walls opening. Her nails dug sharply into his flesh as he continued to assault her g-spot. The hunter was groaning as he fucked her hard and fast and the sounds of his pleasure, only served to heighten her own arousal. Surrendering her entire body to him, Carol threw her head back and screamed his name into the dark. He drove his manhood into her center, jerking his hips and Carol lost control. His cock was pulsing inside her as her orgasm struck. Every muscle in her body tensed and her walls began to flutter along the length of his rigid shaft. She felt a sudden gush of wetness from someplace deep inside her and every last ounce of tension seemed to disappear. Her insides clung to him, constricting then releasing in rapid succession; she was desperate to hold onto the hardness that had brought such incredible pleasure. His pace didn't slow and each time he pushed himself through her aching sex, another sharp cry escaped her.

Daryl was stunned when he felt the warmth hit his cock and the shining evidence of her release began to leak out around him. The sound of her screaming his name echoed in his ears and he reminded himself that he needed to keep going. He felt her come and it only spurred him on. Her insides were beginning to spasm and she was convulsing around him. Dazed by the fact that he'd pushed her to her peak, Daryl let his head drop to her chest while his hips continued to jerk between her legs. It was like nothing he'd ever felt as his swollen cock slammed into her wet pussy over and over. She was trembling around him and his member continued to tighten. Clawing at the sleeping bag, he drove himself into her depths, harder, faster, stronger as if he couldn't get enough. He felt himself nearing the edge and unrestrained curses began to trip off the end of his tongue. "_Fuck….shit…..Christ_…." The hunter was panting as her tight pussy continued to squeeze and massage him. It didn't matter how much of her he had…he wanted to go deeper. He was fucking her with everything he had, hips colliding with hers, again and again… his shaft disappearing inside her, reaching her limits. Knowing that he couldn't hold back much longer, he clenched his jaw and snarled into her skin. "_Fuck…Carol….I'm comin'….God….damn….fuck….naw….fuckin'…..Jesus_…." He couldn't even be sure if he'd said the words aloud. All he knew was the way she felt, wrapped around his manhood…clinging to him so tight that it hurt, but he fought through it, working his way inside….deep enough to hit the top of her. He was aching, _throbbing_, but he pushed himself harder and when he couldn't go any deeper, he closed his eyes and let his orgasm rush through his cock, strong and fast, making the shaft jerk inside her. He continued to buck, savoring the feeling of her warm walls around him as he came…coating her insides in his semen. His shaft was pulsing and spurting as she milked him, her hips rocking weakly underneath him…coaxing every last drop of pleasure from his softening cock.

Carol could've sworn that he fucked her straight into a second orgasm. Her skin was slick with sweat and the vinyl sleeping bag was sticking to her back. Her core was aching as waves of pleasure radiated outward from her sex. There was a faint smile on her face as she lay there with her eyes closed. She'd felt it…his _climax_. She helped him let go, and the feeling was amazing. His hot seed hit her womb and then the relentless pace of his thrusts finally slowed to a stop. The hunter was panting as he lay on her chest, his cheek resting just above her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and enjoyed the lingering effects of their orgasms. She wasn't sure she'd be able to move anytime soon, but she was content to lay trapped underneath him….covered in his sweat…his member growing soft between her legs. Glancing to her right, she reached for the edge of the sleeping bag and pulled it so that it covered them. While Daryl's breathing slowed, Carol rubbed his neck and kissed the top of his head.

After several minutes, the hunter's eyes eased open. He groaned, shaking some of the sweaty hair out of his face. Carol chuckled softly as she stared at him through the gloom.

"What's funny?" he asked, his voice like gravel.

"Nothing…" she sighed happily, more content than she'd been in a long time. "It's just…I guess you meant what you said…"

Daryl cocked his head to the side, studying her.

"It's not like this between you and Beth." she said, her walls still clinging to him.

The hunter snorted and smirked at her. "Naw; it ain't." He dipped his head and kissed her hard, grateful for her company, her _affection_, her _trust_…glad that they'd ended up in that office, _alone_, _naked_, _together_.

**It felt like I covered a lot of bases there lol! Had some close calls, some ass-kicking, arguments, feels, and a pretty decent make-up session if I do say so myself. I hope you liked it Dixonrocks! I know you asked for sweet smut and I really tried! They just tend to get away from me : ) Requests are welcome via PM. As always, thank you for reading and please review! **


	5. Pursuit

**Hey guys : ) Hope everyone's coping during the mid-season break! It seems like you enjoyed the last chapter so I'm excited to bring you another one : ) This is a request from Scifi Riot who thought it would be fun to see Daryl making the moves. I know it's usually Carol who gets the ball rolling, but Scifi Riot wanted to see our favorite hunter going after his girl. After the heavy stuff in the last chapter, I tried to put some fun, flirty humor in this one. Enjoy! Cigarette warning? Idk…maybe, maybe not…guess you'll have to read to find out ; ) Oh! One last thing, you can pair this with the haircut chapter…think of it as a continuation of the Daryl and Carol from chapter 3. Also…cuteness!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, but I should…**

**Chapter 5: Pursuit**

Carol was struggling. Her chest was heaving, and her lungs burned with each strained breath. She could feel beads of sweat slipping down her spine, making her shirt cling to her back.

_Can't….stop….._

Every muscle was aching and quivering but she knew that she needed to keep going. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she managed to lift her chin and meet Daryl's gaze. He stared at her with narrowed blue eyes, locks of damp hair hanging in his face. She could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath but he was showing no signs of weakness. The only thing reflected in those feral, ocean colored eyes was determination. Swallowing hard, Carol willed herself to focus.

_We can do this…._

But she didn't know how much longer she would last. Drawing on the last reserves of her strength, Carol fought through the pain and kept moving. Sensing that she was beginning to falter, Daryl grunted at her. "C'mon…don't stop now."

She groaned, her eyes slamming shut for a moment as her body threatened to give in.

"_Carol_!" he snapped. "C'mon; _work_ with me…."

She glared at him then, wondering what it was that made him so relentless. "_Fine_…." she bit out, forcing herself to take a deep breath. They kept going, sweat stinging their eyes and breaking out all over their bodies. Carol could feel herself getting weaker with each passing second; her body couldn't take the toll and she wondered how she'd even gotten herself into this position. But there was no time for second guessing…not when Daryl was growling at her, urging her… The heat was getting worse and Carol felt as though she might faint.

Her muscles started to tremble and her entire frame seemed to ache with the effort of what they were doing…but she knew she needed to help him.

"_Fuck_…." he breathed, his own muscles straining hard. He let his tongue dart out quickly over his chapped lips, but he didn't stop moving.

Carol studied him, amazed by his strength and the sheer will he possessed. "_Getting_…._close_?" she panted.

The hunter's eyes flicked to her face and something about the way she was struggling made the corner of his mouth hitch up in amusement. "Yea…" he growled, "_Almost_…._there_…."

Carol managed a quick nod as they continued to move together. Every breath was painful now and the heat was almost unbearable. Her shirt was clinging desperately to her damp skin and she could see the way sweat shone on Daryl's arms, highlighting every hard curve of muscle. They were so close but she didn't think she could last any longer. Her heart was pounding violently within the confines of her chest and her mouth had gone dry. When she felt the last ounce of her strength slipping away, like a bead of sweat along her jaw line, Carol met his gaze and the two stared hard at one another.

"_Now_!" he snarled…

And Carol finally let go, a sharp gasp escaping her as her body relished the sudden relief. Her eyes were closed and she was pulling deep, desperate breaths into her lungs. Daryl was muttering curses as he brought one hand up to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Feeling weak and used, the survivors paced slowly, giving themselves a few moments to recover.

"_Jesus_…" Carol sighed, one hand cupping her forehead while the other slid into her back pocket.

The hunter's hands were on his hips. He kicked absently at the ground as he crossed back and forth in front of the bonfire. When he finally felt that he could speak, he licked his lips and glanced at his partner. "Ya alright?" he asked.

Carol blew out a breath and nodded. "Don't know that I can handle any more today…but I'll be fine."

Daryl sighed and they both stared down at the heavy corpse they'd just carried out of the prison. The walker wore a prisoner's jumpsuit and thick blood was still dribbling from the wound in its skull. In an effort to clear new sections of the prison, the group had encountered over a dozen walkers they weren't counting on. They'd managed to put the geeks down without anyone getting hurt, but then they were left with the grim task of getting the bodies outside. The group agreed that any corpses should be burned. Glenn and Michonne had started a fire and everyone took turns carrying walkers out of the cell block. Daryl and Carol weren't sure how they'd wound up working together, but neither minded. Carol was eager to prove that she was just as strong as the rest of them and Daryl seemed to think that she was up to the task. So they'd worked to clear several bodies…the last being the heaviest. By the time they lifted the last corpse, Carol was sure her limbs were going to give out. But she didn't want to look weak in front of him. So she bit her lip, braced herself, and held the dead man's wrists while Daryl held his legs…the bloated corpse swinging slightly between them as they made their way out into the yard, towards the bonfire.

Despite the violent lives they lived, Carol couldn't recall a time when she'd worked so hard. It was one thing to stab geeks…to _run_…_shoot_. It was quite another to haul their dead weight through the dark, dank halls of the prison…then out into the heat of the day, across the yard…with the sun beating down on her back…her limbs trembling painfully with the effort. There seemed to be no relief from the mid-summer heat and now that she was standing, exhausted and aching, beside a damn bonfire….Carol wanted nothing more than to retreat to the safety of the prison and stand beneath the weak trickle of water that she knew would be waiting for her in the wash room. Herschel and Rick had managed to rig a crude shower system and as Carol's breathing continued to slow, she could almost feel the cool water in her hair.

A sharp sound pulled her from her thoughts and she glanced in Daryl's direction. He whistled at her, then pointed to the bloated corpse that lay on the ground between them. "Let's get this sumbitch on the pile 'n call it a day."

Carol released a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. They'd dropped the body just inches from the fire, but she knew they needed to get him heaped onto the smoldering mass of corpses. The group members seemed to agree; the only way to feel _clean_…the only way to cleanse the prison was to burn any evidence of the dead that had infested it. Carol's hands went to her hips as she stared down at walker's ruined face. Yellowed, sunken eyes gazed up at her and she shuddered slightly. When she finally lifted her chin to meet Daryl's gaze, she nodded. "Alright; let's do it."

The hunter grunted at her before bending down to grip the dead man's ankles. Carol mimicked his pose as she dropped down and grabbed the corpse's clammy wrists. "On three…" he growled.

She nodded, licking her lips and preparing for the strain that was about to be placed on her limbs.

"One…two…_three_!" He stood, with a huff, and Carol stood with him. They both snarled at the dead weight suspended between them. Their eyes locked for a moment and they acknowledged each other with subtle nods as they began to swing the body…back and forth, creating the momentum they would need to toss the corpse onto the pile. After several good swings, the two survivors put all of their strength into the motion and flung the bloated corpse into the flames. The body landed with a sick thump; Carol and Daryl watched as the one-time prisoner's uniform quickly began to blacken and burn. They stood, staring at the gruesome results of their handiwork…and wondered when exactly they'd grown accustomed to the smell of burning human flesh.

As they took a moment to calm themselves, each of them waiting for their limbs to stop throbbing, Daryl watched her. She was pacing slowly, her eyes closed, her hands pressing into her lower back as she tried to rub some of the soreness from her muscles. Her shirt was clinging to her back and her chest glistened with sweat…the shining drops of moisture slipping down between her breasts. She looked exhausted…_accomplished_, but exhausted. Daryl hadn't seen her look like that since his haircut… Since she sat panting, in his lap, her head resting in the crook of his neck. She'd been tired then…covered in sweat, sapped of her energy…but she'd been happy…satisfied at least. He kept a low growl locked behind his lips as his eyes wandered from her chest, to the tight stomach he knew was hidden just beneath her clothes, lower…to her hips. He remembered the way it felt to grab them, holding on tightly as she rode him…having to fight the urge to come. He took in her long legs…picturing them wrapped around his waist…

_Christ…_

Daryl grunted, shaking his head to rid himself of the distracting images. It had been twelve days… Twelve long, _grueling_, _painful_ days since he slid her panties down her legs and felt the incredible pressure of her sinking onto his shaft. Twelve days since her walls took him in, clenching around him… _Not_ that he'd been counting. _Not_ that he'd been thinking about it…about _her_…ever since. It wasn't as if he'd lain awake at night, struggling on the perch….tortured by a need that he never realized he had….wishing like hell that he'd opted for a cell…just so that he could take advantage of having the tiniest bit of privacy so that he might relieve the pressure that was slowly driving him crazy. Daryl didn't know what changed. When they'd sat together, in that metal chair, panting against each other's lips, they'd agreed that there would be more…they both wanted it, or at least it seemed that way to Daryl at the time. She let him kiss her…and he could've sworn that she kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. But in the twelve days that had passed, she hadn't mentioned what happened between them…neither had he. They'd stayed in the chair, kissing and laughing lightly for several minutes while their heart rates slowed, but then the reality of their situation set in. They shared a cell block with several other people that would undoubtedly be coming to check on them soon. They'd separated, carefully, and cleaned themselves up the best they could. He'd watched, through dreamy, lust drunk eyes as she pulled her panties back on and stepped into her pants, yanking them up her legs. He zipped up his fly and fastened his belt, his eyes still on her body. After smoothing her hair and straightening her shirt, she helped Daryl up and they both stood on shaky legs, smirking at one another. She let her hand rest lightly, on the center of his chest as her blue eyes found his. With a soft smile, she leaned in and kissed him, whispering 'thank you' against his mouth. She chuckled, telling him that it was fun, and then she moved past him…pushing the hanging sheet aside and stepping out into the cellblock…leaving him to collect his thoughts. Daryl had stood in her cell for what seemed like the longest time…her taste lingering in his mouth and her smell all around him. He'd sighed, content, but somewhat dazed…and wondered what the hell any of it meant. The only thing he'd been sure of, was that there would be a next time.

But now, on the twelfth day of their…_drought_, he began to think that Carol had changed her mind. There never seemed to be an opportunity…and part of him wondered if she was purposely avoiding him. Granted, clearing an entire prison was no easy task and it left little room for leisure, but _still_. Each of the group members took watch shifts…they all took turns stabbing walkers through the fence to avoid a pile up….and there were supply runs that needed to be made. The survivors lead very busy, dangerous, demanding lives. As he rubbed the back of his aching neck and kicked at the ground, Daryl entertained the possibility that there really hadn't been any chances to…_well_…he wasn't sure what to call it. But he figured they would've at least carved out a second of time to talk about what happened…or acknowledge it somehow. Not that the hunter was one for deep discussions, but he sensed that they should talk about it. He stopped rubbing his neck as something else occurred to him. Over the past twelve days, he seemed to be the only one interested in pursuing whatever this thing was that they'd started. He made every effort to get paired with her during late watch, runs, training, or any other odd jobs that came up…but something always seemed to get in the way. He even offered to help her fix their dinner several nights ago, just so he'd have a minute to talk to her, but she'd given him her usual soft smile, and dismissed him with a pat on the arm. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated Daryl became. Trying to get that woman to talk to him was like trying to trap a goddamn animal…one that always seemed to escape the snare.

_Your dumb ass just needs to let it go….she don't want this…_

But something about that bothered him. His eyes flicked to her face and he focused on her lips…the way her teeth were sinking into that soft flesh as she sighed and paced. _She enjoyed it_…the time they'd spent together in her cell… He felt her come. There was no denying it…her body had shuddered against him…the muscles contracting around him as a powerful spasm hit her core. In their hellish world, which held so little joy…where violence and loss reigned supreme, he couldn't begin to understand why she would abandon something that had given her pleasure. Daryl had never been very confident in anything other than his hunting abilities, and he certainly wasn't one to think highly of himself, but he remembered the incredible motion of her hips…the way she muttered curses through her gag…and the dreamy look on her face as they both came down from their high. _He'd_ done that to her…made her _happy_…at least physically…and he knew, that if she gave him a chance, he could do it again. He just had to figure out why she was resisting. Daryl Dixon never made a habit of losing his quarry and he wasn't going to start now. He just had to be patient, tread lightly, and understand his prey. He wasn't giving up.

Carol could feel the exhaustion in her bones. Moving the first few bodies had been hard enough, but by the time that she and Daryl hauled the fourth corpse out of the prison, the sun was high and the muscles in her back were screaming. She'd wanted to quit…to drop everything and retreat to the safety and solitude of her cell, but no one else had thrown in the towel, and she wouldn't allow herself to be the first. Leaning forward, Carol rubbed some of the soreness from her thighs and blew out a warm breath. As she waited for her heart rate to slow, she knew the real reason she'd pushed herself so hard.

_Daryl_.

She'd done her best to limit their interaction…_since his haircut_…but it was easier said than done. Their cell block wasn't terribly large and they seemed to cross paths much too often for her liking. Not that she had any problems with Daryl…but she was concerned about what had taken place between them. Part of her felt guilty for propositioning him…even though he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. When she wasn't feeling guilty, Carol spent her time agonizing over the whole thing…turning it over and over in her mind…weighing the pros and cons. She knew she was being foolish…_over thinking_ it…but she couldn't help it. Each time she considered approaching him, something held her back. The first, and most basic issue, was the lack of privacy in the prison. It was nothing short of a miracle that they hadn't been caught that afternoon in her cell. She suspected that their urgency was the only thing that had spared them…their union lasting only a few minutes. Secondly, Carol was worried about creating a dependency in both of them. She wasn't proud of that thought, in fact…it made her feel weak, and embarrassingly so, but it was true. The pure, physical pleasure she'd experienced with him had been amazing and she found herself thinking about it…_a lot_….when she was trying to sleep, when she woke up each morning…whenever she walked past the perch, when she heard his voice or happened to meet his gaze from across a room…when he stood close enough for her to catch his scent. They'd only been together once and she was constantly plagued with thoughts of him…his _body_…and the things he could do with it. It was distracting, and Carol needed to focus. There was too much that had to be done. They were attempting to clear an entire prison and none of them knew how many walkers, whether inmates or civilians, were still stumbling around those dimly lit halls and forgotten rooms. The very last thing she needed was a distraction…especially when one wrong move…one _misstep_ could cost Carol her life…or a limb. She knew that Daryl had an even greater burden on his shoulders. Not only was he clearing cell blocks on a daily basis, but he was responsible for feeding everyone. Carol couldn't handle any distractions and she figured he couldn't either…not when so much as at stake. With all of those things in mind, she opted to avoid him. It wasn't fair; she knew that…but it seemed to be the best course of action…as far as she was concerned.

So, Carol had swapped watch shifts…gotten up early, stayed up late, made herself scarce whenever he was around and offered up excuses and bits of small talk when she couldn't escape him entirely. It seemed to be working…but that was a term Carol used loosely. They were part of a tightly-knit group and she knew she couldn't avoid him forever…but she planned to hold-off any deep discussions or debates for as long as she could…that was until they'd been tasked with dragging the bodies out of the prison. She supposed she owed her current situation to another foolish bout of daydreaming. She'd watched him take down the last walker earlier in the afternoon. She saw the ferocity with which he attacked it, the way he lunged fearlessly towards the walker and drove his knife deep into its skull, growling as he killed the monster. He'd wrenched the blade free with a grunt, his blue eyes burning as he scanned the dark hallway for more corpses. Witnessing the man's raw power made Carol's mouth go dry and she couldn't help but to remember the way his strong hips had jerked underneath her as they sat in that metal chair. She'd been so lost in thought that she couldn't hear Rick's words as he barked orders at the group. The next thing she knew, the others had paired off and she felt the pressure of a strong hand on her shoulder. She blinked and saw the deputy standing beside her. "You 'n Daryl got the rest of 'em?" he'd asked her, gesturing to the bodies that littered the ground.

All she could manage was a nod; Rick gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he walked away, leaving her to deal with the mess at hand…and she didn't mean the corpses. She'd swallowed hard, calming herself and then lifted her chin…only to find Daryl staring at her. For several heartbeats, she gnawed her bottom lip and wondered what the hell came over the two of them…that day in her cell…

_How could you let yourself do that? Things were fine…sure, he was distant…but all you had to do was wait him out…he would've come back around….but no….instead, you decide to screw him…because that always helps… And where did those few minutes of grunting and moaning get you? You can't even look at him anymore…you live together…you need to make this work._

Carol winced at the harsh, but honest words that were echoing in her head. Daryl was standing a few yards away, waiting patiently for her to say something.

_We're adults; we can do this. It's just sex…it's not like we did anything terrible. I think we're mature enough to move past it and do our jobs._

With her mind made up, Carol nodded in his direction. "Should we get started?" she'd asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her concerns.

He stared at her for a moment longer, as if he expected her to say something else…but she didn't. Daryl crouched with a huff and grabbed the first corpse by its ankles. "C'mon," he'd urged. And so the two of them had begun the unpleasant task of hauling the bodies…which lead them to where they were now….lingering awkwardly by the bonfire, despite the fact that they were both dripping sweat.

Carol had done her best to ignore him while they moved the bodies. She didn't want to think about the way his shirt was clinging to him, or the way his muscles strained each time he lifted one of the walkers….she didn't want to hear his ragged breathing, or smell his sweat…but now that they were finished with their work, and finally had a moment to recover… She found herself looking. He lifted his shirt by the hem and used the dingy fabric to wipe at his face. Carol had to bite her lip when she saw his flat stomach…his skin glistening with moisture…and her eyes followed the dark trail of hair below his navel…

_Stop it…it's wrong…you're only making things worse. You need to get him out of your head._

Despite her own warnings, Carol felt a genuine sense of loss when he lowered his shirt. A dull ache began to build between her legs and she was forced to remind herself of all the reasons she'd been avoiding him.

When Daryl finished wiping the sweat from his eyes, he released his shirt and could've sworn that he'd caught Carol staring at him. She looked away, clearing her throat and folding her arms across her chest…but there was color in her cheeks and Daryl had to wonder if the thoughts in her head had been less than innocent just then…. The idea was intriguing. He seemed to notice, for the first time, that they were alone…out in the yard, fairly isolated. His hands were on his hips as he considered his options. The hunter was smart enough to know that he couldn't accuse her of avoiding him…at least not directly. He couldn't just ask her why she'd changed her mind about him…or _them_…the _idea_ of them… _No_. Any direct questions would startle her and he'd be back at square one…alone, confused and frustrated. If years of hunting had taught him anything, Daryl knew that this would require a bit more thought. He needed to go slow with her...get her to trust him. The hunter was determined to wait her out…at least until her guard finally came down. "Ya did good." he said, his blue eyes trained on her.

Carol glanced at him, offering a shrug and a tired smile. "Just trying to do my part." She started rubbing her aching biceps. "Think I bit off more than I can chew…" she said softly, almost to herself. As soon as the words left her mouth, Carol felt warmth spread through her face at the double meaning.

_You were in over your head the moment you asked him into your cell…._

The significance of the statement wasn't lost on Daryl. He scuffed his boot in the dirt and eyed her, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. "Think ya handled it alright." he said.

She coughed and averted her eyes.

Daryl ran a hand through his mussed hair and wondered how long it was going to take for her to open up to him. "We should head back." he growled.

Carol nodded as she walked past him on stiff legs. Daryl fell into step beside her. She wouldn't allow herself to look at him, but his bare arm occasionally brushed hers, making her shiver. His scent hung heavy in the warm air around them and Carol's baser instincts were telling her to grab his shirt in her fists and push him onto the ground.

_No. Your hormones do not rule you. They've gotten you into enough trouble as it is. _

So she held back her groans and kept her eyes trained on the prison in the distance. With each step, she worried that he would say something…ask her about what happened in her cell…but he didn't.

"You're quiet." he said, glancing at her. "Somethin' on your mind?"

"Not really." she sighed, trying to end the conversation then and there.

"Ya sure?" he asked.

Carol stiffened beside him, her pace increasing. "I'm fine." she bit out, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Daryl kept up with her. "Ya seem tense."

Carol tried to release some of her frustration with a sigh but she didn't answer him.

"That ain't good for ya." he added; they were nearing the prison.

Exasperated, she finally stole a glance at him, hoping to get her point across. "I told you; I'm _fine_." Her blue eyes had narrowed and her mouth was a thin line, but Daryl wasn't intimidated.

"Sure." he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement.

The look on his face was irritating her; they were getting close to where the vehicles were parked and she could hear some of the others milling around in the distance. Stopping suddenly, she glared at him. The hunter stopped when she did, his eyes quickly roaming from her feet…all the way up her body until he met her gaze. "What?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

There was something brazen in the way he looked at her and Carol was tempted to smack him. Biting back her frustration, she locked eyes with him and spoke slowly. "I'm _fine_ Daryl. Just a long day. Now let it _go_."

He merely shrugged, as if he were dismissing her statement.

"And what exactly does _that_ mean?" she asked, meaning the shrug. Her arms were still folded across her chest.

"Nothin'." he said, his voice like gravel and his eyes lingering on her mouth. "Just seems like you're wound up pretty tight." Daryl wasn't stupid, he'd chosen his words with care. He wanted to get a reaction out of her. The hunter stood his ground and took some satisfaction in the fact that he knew exactly how tight she was…or how tight _parts_ of her were….

Carol's lips parted, her brows knitting together as she stared at him. She was shocked at his words. Part of her wanted to believe that it was just a turn of phrase…with no hidden meaning…but the flush on her cheeks told her different. The idea that he was referring to her….

_Jesus_…

She couldn't bring herself to entertain that thought. It occurred to Carol that he might be toying with her…and that only added to her frustration. Fed up with him, _herself_…and the day in general, Carol took a step closer, leaning into his space.

Daryl knew she was trying to scare him…make him uncomfortable, and normally, the proximity would've been enough to make him back down…but not today. Not when he'd been looking for any excuse to get near her. As far as he was concerned, she could get as close as she wanted. The smirk was still on his mouth as he stared at her.

"Like I _said_…" Her voice was dangerously low as she spoke to him. "I'm perfectly fine. I don't need you, or anyone else worrying about me. " With that, she turned away from him and started walking towards the steps that lead to C-block. As she was walking away, Carol called back to him. "Go find something useful to do with your time."

Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, the smirk still on his lips. "I'm tryin'." he called out.

Carol froze, glancing over her shoulder. She couldn't believe him. Granted, she wasn't entirely sure of the underlying meaning in his words, but she had a strong suspicion…and that was enough. She didn't bother to dignify his statement with a response; instead she shook her head in disbelief and continued on her way, leaving him to his thoughts. When she reached the top of the steps, she yanked the door to the cellblock open with gusto and promptly slammed it behind her. As she left the brooding hunter behind her, a single, muttered phrase fell from her lips. "_Try harder_." She huffed and marched angrily through the cellblock, determined to stay away from him for the rest of the day.

When she finally reached her cell, Carol sank onto her bunk and released a heavy sigh. It didn't matter that she was sweaty…her forearms flecked with blood and dirt..her hair mussed, she just needed to rest…to put the afternoon's trials behind her. She fell back onto the flimsy mattress and stared at the bunk above her, searching for something to keep her mind occupied. With one arm draped across her forehead, and the other resting on her stomach, Carol tried to take some small comfort in the plain grey walls of her cell.

_At least I'm alone._

As far as she was concerned, the others could fend for themselves. She wasn't going to worry about what may or may not be going on beyond the plain, white sheet that served as her curtain….it was all that separated her from the rest of the world. Pulling a deep breath into her lungs, Carol closed her eyes and tried to relax. She never slept heavily, or for very long…none of them did. The most she could hope for was two hours…maybe three….if the baby didn't start crying. She drummed her fingers lightly on her stomach and thought about dinner.

In an effort to establish some sense of normalcy, the group had taken to gathering together in the evenings. Someone was always on watch, but other than that, they all took seats in the mess hall and worked to scrounge up a meager meal of some sort. More often than not, they shared bowls of ramen or canned vegetables, warmed over the gas stove. When Daryl managed to bring back deer, rabbit, or squirrel, they'd fix a very watered down stew and ladle it out in small portions. They did their best to make the meat last. But those days were entirely devoted to cleaning the carcasses, _gutting_ them, _skinning_ them… Just thinking of it made Carol tired. As much as she enjoyed venison, she was glad that the night's dinner would be a simple one. She usually helped, either by preparing the food, or watching the baby so that the others could distribute the portions. Another sigh escaped her. She needed to rest.

_Someone will come get me before dinner…if they need anything, they know where I am._

Carol rolled onto her side and faced the concrete wall. The thin fabric of the pillow case felt cool, almost soothing against her cheek and in the gloom of her quiet cell, Carol finally began to relax. But the moment she let her guard down, nagging thoughts seemed to rush into her head, circling like flies in her mind's eye. She started to feel guilty for the way she'd spoken to Daryl outside. She'd snapped at him, and he didn't deserve it.

_Maybe he wasn't toying with you…maybe he really wanted to know how you were doing…_

"Maybe…" she muttered softly into her pillow, her eyes closed.

_What if it was all in your head? You're making this harder than it has to be….you brought it on yourself…_

The voice in her head was fading as sleep took her…but she heard the message. Maybe she'd been too short with the hunter. She'd considered him a friend, before their little rendezvous in her cell….maybe she just needed to remind herself of that from time to time. She didn't want to lose the connection they'd built. With her mind made up, Carol curled into the fetal position and let sleep take her. She wasn't going to take out her frustration on Daryl. As difficult as it might be, she was going to treat him the way she always had. She would wake up for dinner, offer help if it was needed, and make peace with the man. She would smile, make conversation, and pretend that the haircut never happened. And maybe, if fortune smiled on her, Daryl would play along and forget the whole thing.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the survivors slowly made their way to the mess hall. Michonne let Herschel lean on her as the two walked into the room, joining the others. The farmer was still adapting to life on crutches and Michonne had proven to be a great help whenever he needed to get somewhere in a hurry. The two seemed to be forming an unlikely friendship and they smiled weakly at the others when they entered the room.

Beth looked up, glad to see her father up and about. She and Carl made room at their table, allowing Herschel to slump down next to them. Rick was on watch, and Glenn was charged with looking after Judith. Maggie stood in front of the stove, stirring a large pot of noodles. There was a smirk on her lips as she stole glances at her partner. It was apparent that Glenn didn't have much experience with children. The man wore a look of desperation as he rocked the squalling baby in his arms. "Try singin' to her." said Maggie.

Glenn's brows knit together as he stood in the middle of the room. "What?"

"Sing." Carl echoed. "She likes it."

A nervous chuckle escaped Glenn as he stared down at the fussy child. "I think she likes it when _Beth_ sings…me, not so much."

"You're not givin' yourself enough credit." said Maggie. She turned the heat down on the stove, letting the pot simmer. "We all gotta learn to look after her…and you're doin' fine."

Glenn swallowed hard while he paced. Judith's cheeks were red from crying and he didn't know what to do. He looked at Herschel, hoping that the man had some advice for him, but the farmer just smiled.

"Son, you're over thinkin' this. She's a baby. Babies cry. All of 'em. Doesn't mean ya can't get her to stop. Is she wet?" Herschel asked.

"No," Glenn answered quickly, much to the amusement of the others. "She's fine, I checked. I gave her a bottle a little while ago…I don't know what else to do."

Taking pity on the man, Beth decided to relieve him. Just as she moved to rise from her seat…the sound of heavy footsteps made her stop. They all turned to find the source of the sound, and saw Daryl walking into the mess hall. He greeted them with a stiff nod but kept moving until he was standing in front of Glenn. "Somethin' wrong with ass kicker?" he asked, glancing at the baby.

"I don't know…" Glenn sighed, "I don't think so…I just can't get her to stop."

Without any hesitation, Daryl reached for the screaming bundle. "Give her here."

Glenn was confused as he reluctantly handed the baby over to the hunter.

But Daryl didn't seem to be the least bit concerned. He held the little girl, her head resting in the crook of his elbow. As if he'd forgotten that the others were there, the hunter began walking slowly, back and forth across the room. He was completely focused on the baby in his arms and he spoke softly as he rocked her. "C'mon now…stop all that cryin'….go on….ain't nothin' to be fussin' about…." His voice was low, just above a whisper and he kept his eyes trained on her little face. The others smiled as they watched the strange scene unfold. After just a few minutes in Daryl's arms, Judith's screams became weak whimpers…eventually stopping altogether. She stared up at him, blinking and cooing and he couldn't help the smile on his face. He'd always been good with her. Nobody understood why, but they didn't question it either. The others were just grateful that someone could get her to stop crying. But Daryl knew what the real reason was. His blood ran hot and he gave off natural warmth that the baby apparently found soothing. All he had to do was hold her close for a few minutes and she always quieted down. He'd never admit it, but he took smug satisfaction in the fact that he could keep the baby happy with almost no effort. It made him feel like he was good for more than just putting meat on the table every so often. And she always seemed so tiny in his arms; it almost made him chuckle. He knew he probably looked ridiculous, his skin covered in sweat and dirt…his hair a tangled mess and his calloused fingers curling protectively around the back of the baby's head…but he didn't care. Daryl liked holding her. He felt strong when he carried her, and she was better company than most of the others anyway, in his opinion. So he cradled Judith against his chest, giving her the warmth she needed. He continued to pace, his voice hushed and gentle as he spoke to her.

From her spot at the top of the stairs, Carol stared down at the usually sullen hunter. With one hand rubbing the back of her neck, and an arm curled loosely around her raised knees, she took in the scene and tried to keep the smile off of her face. When Judith arrived, no one knew what to do. Rick was numb…in shock after losing Lori. He'd disappeared into the tombs with an axe and it was hours before any of them saw him again. Meanwhile, the group was left to deal with a cold, _hungry_, _screaming_ newborn…a haunted boy who'd just put down his own mother, and a traumatized Maggie…the girl's eyes were red and swollen and she cried for the longest time. It was devastating…. The survivors were grappling with the loss of T-Dog, Lori…and they feared that they'd lost their leader as well…at least the man he'd been before… While the rest of them tore at their hair, screaming and swearing…bemoaning the injustice of it all, Daryl stepped up. Without a second thought, he'd taken the newborn from Maggie's shaking arms and the little girl seemed to relax almost instantly. They'd all stared at him in amazement…each of them wondering how someone so hostile could manage to comfort a crying child. But he'd done it. Since the day she first came into their lives, pink and screaming, Daryl had never wandered too far from the little one. Despite the fact that Carol had seen him hold the baby, feed her, even change her on numerous occasions…the bond between the two of them had never seemed as significant as it did now.

She wasn't sure if it was fatigue…or the fact that she was taking a closer look, but for some reason…seeing the two of them down in the mess hall was making Carol feel funny…in a good way. There was a lazy smile on her face and she felt warmth spreading through her body. Not the type of warmth that comes with embarrassment or arousal…but from a feeling of genuine contentment, or happiness. She shook her head, feeling foolish, but the smile wouldn't leave her lips. As she sat on the steps, enjoying the view, the nagging voice in her head reemerged.

_It's because of the haircut…and how he kissed you after_

Carol blushed at the memory. She hadn't expected the kissing…but she certainly enjoyed it. She supposed it was the fact that he'd been gentle with her…sweet even. After the rushed, sweaty, almost animalistic sex, Carol wasn't expecting to see such a drastically different side of him. But if all the time they'd spent together had taught her anything, it was that Daryl Dixon was nothing if not surprising. And so she continued to stare at the man she'd grown close to…the man who'd given her the most intense pleasure she'd ever known… It was then that Carol began putting the puzzle pieces together. She'd developed a physical attraction to him; she already considered him a friend, and _now_….watching as he cradled the small child in his arms, Carol realized that the whole thing was probably just causing her estrogen levels to spike…which would explain the stupid grin on her face and the soft sighs that kept slipping from between her lips as she stared at him with dreamy, half-closed eyes. Judith always seemed to brighten Carol's day, lifting her mood. And seeing the tiny girl nestled against Daryl's chest…it was just appealing to her on every possible level. She could feel a sudden giddy sensation bubbling inside her.

_You need to stop…relax. Nothing extraordinary is happening in the mess hall. It's just Daryl and Judith…he's just trying to calm her down_

"By holding her…" Carol muttered to herself. "In those damn arms…." She released a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead. His arms had never mattered _before_… Not until he used them to hold her down while he….

_Lord…._

Carol sighed again, at once happy and frustrated.

_You brought this on yourself._

"I know…." she whispered, leaning her head against the stair rail. Her eyes were locked on the scene below. She wanted to stop staring, but she couldn't.

There was a faint smile on Daryl's lips as he watched the baby girl's lids grow heavy. He continued to pace slowly, making his way from one end of the mess hall to the other. Judith squirmed a bit, but he held her close and spoke softly, almost whispering to her. He knew he probably looked foolish, but he didn't care what the others thought. All that mattered to him was comforting the motherless child who'd been born into such a terrible, violent world. As he rocked her gently in his arms, he saw her eyes close. The sight of the now sleeping baby seemed to lift the hunter's spirit. He smiled down at her and listened to the soft sound her breathing. Knowing that he should set Judith in her makeshift crib so that she could rest, Daryl turned and began walking back to the opposite end of the mess hall where he knew the others were waiting. He could hear them talking softly amongst themselves but he made sure his steps were slow; he wanted to spend just a little more time with the tiny creature. There was something calming about holding her…and the hunter was grateful for anything that could bring him a sense of peace. He'd nearly reached the others when he happened to glance up at the stairwell. He froze when he noticed Carol watching him. She seemed to blush and look away.

_How long's she been up there?_

Someone else must've spotted Carol because in the next instant Beth was calling to her. "You comin' down? We're almost ready to eat." the girl said, her eyes on the stairwell.

Carol stiffened, but realized that she couldn't very well ignore the girl. She forced a smile and nodded as she stood. Her hand slid along the cool, metal railing as she made her way down. The voice in her head was making itself heard again…

_You need to focus…forget about Daryl and that baby…._

She swallowed hard and tried to push the thoughts of Daryl from her mind. But when she reached the bottom of the steps, her eyes were automatically drawn to him. She glanced quickly at the sleeping baby and then made herself look away.

The hunter was instantly intrigued. He watched as she walked towards the others and found a seat at one of the tables…but he didn't miss the look she'd given him. Her eyes hadn't held any of the malice he'd seen earlier, when she glared at him outside the prison. She'd looked at him with something close to adoration…or approval? He wasn't entirely sure, but he knew it was something good. While the thoughts began spinning in his skull he saw her cast a quick glance over her shoulder at him. Her eyes flicked from the baby, to his face…and he thought he could see the smallest hint of a smirk on the corner of mouth, but more color rushed to her cheeks and she quickly turned her attention back to her table-mates.

As Daryl stood, cradling the tiny creature in his arms, something seemed to click in his mind.

_The kid…._

He knew they all had soft spots for the baby…but Carol _definitely_ did. He'd seen the way her face lit up anytime she played with Judith, or held her. The girl had Carol wrapped around her tiny finger…a feat that Daryl had yet to master… But as he stared down at little girl, who was curled up against his chest, another thought entered the hunter's head…

_Woman can't say no to this baby…_

Maybe, if he stuck close to the little girl….Carol would develop a soft spot for him too. Daryl knew it was wrong. He should never even consider using the baby to get to Carol, but he couldn't help it. He'd been racking his brain for a way to get past the wall she'd built around herself…but nothing seemed to work. Daryl had no intention of giving up, and he figured if he couldn't get through her wall, then he'd just have to settle for crawling under her fence. One way or another, he was going to get to her.

So with his mind made up, he took a seat at one of the nearby tables and continued speaking softly to the baby.

Carol was doing her best to ignore him. She didn't want to think about how cute he looked holding ass kicker. She didn't want to hear that sexy, hushed, voice he was using to speak to the tiny bundle in his arms. And she _really_ didn't want to think about the damn smile on his face when he looked at that little girl…the smile that made him seem genuinely happy, and that took at least five years off of him in an instant. But just knowing that he was nearby…with his strong arms cradling that baby…it was making her resolve crumble. She kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eye…and when she saw him lean down and brush Judith's head with a kiss, it was all she could do to keep the sigh trapped in her chest. Carol felt absolutely ridiculous but she couldn't help it. She'd seen him hold the baby so many times before…but she never remembered him kissing her. Lost in her own rosy-colored thoughts, it took Carol several seconds to notice that he was looking at her. Her breath caught in her throat and she didn't know what to say.

Daryl's mouth hitched up into a smirk. Judging by the look on her face, his plan was working. He knew exactly what he was doing when he kissed that baby. It was low…but Daryl didn't care. He was playing shamelessly on her weaknesses. Sometimes, the only way to trap an animal was with bait. And if there was anything in the prison, that Carol was powerless against, it was Judith.

Carol's lips parted slightly when she noticed the way Daryl was smirking at her from his table. Her brows knit together and it occurred to her that the hunter might have an ulterior motive. She knew he loved ass kicker, but he seemed to be overly affectionate tonight.

_Oh my god…._

She brought one hand to her temple and tried to clear her head.

_He's doing it on purpose…_

Carol was having trouble processing her thoughts. She'd always known that Daryl was relentless…at least when it came to hunting, killing geeks, or making sure that everyone made it home after a run….but _this_…. She gnawed her lip and shook her head slowly.

_He's really not going to let it go…_

But Carol didn't care. He could pull all the cheap, dirty tricks he wanted. He could shrug the damn shirt off his shoulders and sing to Judith…it wasn't going to change her mind. She didn't care how cute he was, or how sweet he was being with the little girl. She wasn't concerned with those blue eyes of his, or his dark, mussed hair…or the line of his jaw, or the body he had hidden beneath his clothes…or the sweat, dirt and blood that covered his arms. It was none of her business and she wouldn't allow herself to waste another moment thinking about any of it. Sitting up straight and folding her arms across her chest, Carol turned away from him and focused on the bowls of ramen that were now being passed around.

While Daryl was frustrated at the loss of her attention, he took some small comfort in the fact that he was getting under her skin. He'd make it under that fence, if he had to crawl on his damn belly.

After their meager dinner, the survivors slowly dispersed. Watch shifts changed, dirty clothes were gathered for tomorrow's laundry, and those who weren't on guard duty drug their feet to their cells. Carol was crouched near her duffel bag. A small gas lantern served as her only light as she tried to search for something relatively clean to change into. She was squinting through the gloom when she finally found a battered tee and a pair of sweats. Carol continued to rummage through her belongings, hoping to find some underwear, but she froze when she heard voices outside her cell. Curious, she set her things down and crept towards the curtain, pulling it aside just enough to see what was going on.

Rick and Daryl stood near the perch, talking. The deputy and his children slept just two cells down from Carol's. She saw Rick reach out and place a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Thanks for lookin' after her. I know Glen's still gets anxious whenever I leave him with her."

The hunter shrugged, scuffing his boot on the floor. "Ain't nothin'."

Rick gave his friend's shoulder another pat. "You bein' able to get her quiet…get her _sleepin'_…that's not a small thing."

Daryl grunted some sort of response, refusing to meet the deputy's gaze.

Rick wore a tired smile as he studied the hunter. "Get some rest; you got watch in the morning." said the deputy.

Daryl nodded and the two men went their separate ways. Rick disappeared into his cell while Daryl turned towards the perch and dropped to a crouch in one of the corners, rifling through his bags.

Something about the exchange made Carol smile. She realized that even if he had been toying with her at dinner, he was still great with Judith…and the little girl clearly had an attachment to him.

_Jesus, quit…._

She was scolding herself, but the smile was still on her lips. She didn't understand how the man could be frustrating and endearing at the same time. Sighing, and ignoring the sensations that were warring inside her, Carol retreated into the safety of her cell and resumed her search for underwear. When she finally had her clean clothes gathered into a bundle, she snatched a threadbare towel from her bag and stepped out into the darkness of the cellblock. Doing her best to tread lightly, Carol made her way to the stairs…she was doing fine until the first step creaked loudly under her weight. She stiffened and felt eyes on her back. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she saw Daryl looking at her.

"Where ya goin'?" he asked, his eyes darting to the clothes she held in her arms.

She swallowed hard. "Nowhere. Just getting washed up."

But he was staring at her like a wolf, his eyes almost glowing in the dark. "Alone?" he growled softly.

Carol tried to calm her frayed nerves as she answered him. "I don't make a habit of keeping company in the wash room." She didn't wait for him to respond; instead, she turned away and headed down the metal stairs.

"Ya shouldn't be goin' down there in the dark…not by yourself." he called after her.

Carol sighed. "I think I can manage. Goodnight Daryl." With that, she hurried on her way, trying not to stumble.

Daryl stood on the perch, his hands on his hips. The rational part of his brain knew she was right. They'd cleared the section of the prison near the showers. There weren't any real threats down there… But the thought was nagging at him. She would be alone…naked. She would be vulnerable…and he imagined that she might not be able to run from him if she didn't have any clothes. Even if she didn't want what he wanted…he figured she would have no choice but to talk to him about it. As much as he wanted to be close to her again, and feel her skin against his…he knew that what he really needed was for her to acknowledge what happened. He needed her to say something…_anything_. Daryl didn't want to spend another night struggling on the perch, wondering what the hell happened between them.

In the safety and solace of the empty shower room, Carol finally let herself breathe. She'd jogged the whole way there, banking on sheer memorization to avoid running into any walls. Once she stepped into the room, she moved towards the counter that held a row of sinks. The group made sure to keep at least one gas lantern in every room and her hand finally found the desired object. Her fingers fumbled for the small knob and she turned it, seeing a small flame emerge within the glass. She gave it another turn and the flame burned brighter. There wasn't much light, but it was enough for her to see the small bench nearby. Carol set her things down and sighed. She'd been doing this ever since Rick and Herschel got the showers running. She would either be the first one up, and head to the wash room before any of the others were even out of bed, or she would stay up late and be the last person to shower. She sighed to herself, realizing that there was one thing she and Daryl had in common…the need for privacy. After catching a glimpse of his scars that day, just before the haircut, she suspected that his preference for isolation must be similar to hers. She had no desire to discuss her own scars with anyone. They were a part of her and she'd accepted that…but it didn't mean she was ready to relive all the things that Ed had done to her before the world turned. So she kept to herself, at least when it came to washing up. And so far, it seemed to be working.

She stood near the bench and unfastened her belt buckle. As she pushed the cargo pants down her hips, guilt began to creep into Carol's consciousness again.

_I can't avoid him forever…_

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Carol couldn't deny the truth in those words. She stepped out of her pants and slid her panties down her legs. As she pulled the grimy, stained shirt over her head, she sighed. It felt good to get out of the sweat-soaked clothes she'd been wearing all day. She wanted to put the entire, exhausting day behind her…to scrub it off her skin and force it from her mind. A soft groan escaped her when she unclasped her bra and let it drop. She rolled her aching shoulders and ran tried hands through her mussed hair. As she moved towards the shower stalls, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the cracked mirrors above the sinks. The light was low, and she had trouble making out any real details but she could see strange marks…scratches on her ass…the bruises were nearly gone but the scratches were still healing. Carol shuddered, remembering the way Daryl's nails had dug in as she moved on top of him. They'd both been so lost in lust that neither of them noticed at the time. It wasn't until the day after the haircut that Carol began to feel a stinging pain under clothes. She'd tugged her pants down just enough to see the marks his nails had left on her body. It had been amusing then…a sexy reminder of what they'd done together. But now, when Carol was working so hard to forget it, and to make _him_ forget it, the scratches only served to irritate her. She shook her head in shame and made a mental note to see if Herschel had any ointment. She didn't plan on telling the farmer what it was for, but she was desperate for anything that might make the marks heal faster. Carol didn't want any trace of him lingering on her body.

Thoroughly exasperated, she stepped into the first stall and turned the knob. The rusty pipes groaned and shook; Carol closed her eyes and braced herself for the inevitable shock of cold water. A gasp escaped her when the weak spray burst from the shower head, cool drops pelting her softly. Her body trembled as she grew accustomed to the chilled water. Alone in the gloom, with droplets rolling quickly down her spine, Carol's mind began to wander. As much as she wanted to forget what happened that day in her cell, she knew the memory would always be there…lurking on the edge of her consciousness. Even if she couldn't have him again…if they couldn't have _each other_…Carol figured that it was safe to think about him when she was completely alone. There was no one there to see her…to _judge_ her… She could relive those frantic moments they'd spent together and she could let herself blush…remembering the way it felt when he pushed her to her peak. The sound of the creaking chair still echoed in her ears; she hadn't been able to look at the damn thing since…she couldn't look at that chair without thinking about him. Carol groaned as she ran her hands through her wet hair and tipped her head back, feeling the water roll down her spine. A dull ache was beginning to form between her legs but she fought to ignore it. She tried to focus on getting clean…wiping sweat and dirt from her skin…but something made her entire body go rigid…the blood seemed to freeze in her veins and her heart began to thrum. Pressing her back against the stall wall, Carol held her breath and listened.

Daryl wasn't sure what he intended to accomplish by following her, but he felt the need to seek her out. His nerves seemed to build with each step he took and by the time he reached the shower room, fresh sweat had broken out under his clothes. He knew Carol well enough to know that she wouldn't take kindly to any visitors during her shower. From what he'd been able to ascertain, she didn't even feel comfortable being in there with other women. But morbid curiosity and physical frustration had driven him forward, leading him to where he stood now… The hunter lingered, uncertain, in the doorway to the shower room. Through narrowed eyes, he tried to make out his surroundings. He could see the lantern flickering on the counter, casting strange shadows…the orange light reflected in the cracked mirrors… Carol's things were piled neatly on a nearby bench, along with her towel. He could hear the soft rush of the spray from the shower head…and he sensed that Carol knew he was there. Stepping inside, he eased the heavy door shut behind him. He decided that there was no use in concealing his identity. "Carol…" he whispered hoarsely.

Despite the darkness, and the fact that the stall concealed her body, Carol folded her arms across her chest, covering her breasts. "_What are you doing here_?" she hissed. "_You have no right to be here_…"

Her tone was harsh and the words stung, but if she'd taken one minute of her time to talk to him, over the past twelve days, he wouldn't have to resort to trailing after her in the dark. "Relax," he said as he made his way to the wooden bench and sat down. "Ain't here to bother ya."

Carol was working to keep her breathing under control, but every muscle in her body was tensing with anger and fear. "_I think I made myself clear when I said I didn't need any company down here_."

The hunter sighed, leaning forward and running a broad hand through his hair. "Was thinkin' we could talk…" he said.

Carol blinked, incredulous. "_Later_. _Get out_."

Her tone was starting to irritate him. "Naw; ain't gonna be a later."

She was getting angry. "Excuse…" but he didn't let her finish.

"Been tryin' to get a goddamn second of your time…for _days_…." he brought a hand to his mouth so that he could chew his thumbnail. "But it don't matter how I go about it…seems like it ain't never the right time…."

Carol's anger was curbed by her guilt. He was right. She'd been avoiding him and he knew that now. Feeling some of the fight go out of her, she leaned her head back against the tile and sighed. "Daryl…I'm _sorry_…I just…." But he cut her off again.

"I ain't askin' you to spread your legs here Carol…Ain't asking for anything. I'm just tryin' to wrap my head around whatever the hell that was in your cell…'n why ya can't even look at me now."

She reached up to rub her eyes in exasperation. She didn't know what to say to him. Silence filled the room and they both listened to the sound of the water droplets pelting the floor.

Daryl felt the need to keep talking. He'd already started this by coming down here, he figured he might as well say his peace. "Jus thought…" he sighed, rubbing his neck. "Thought ya liked it." Color rushed to his cheeks and he was glad she couldn't see him.

Her chest tightened when she heard the doubt in his voice. There was weak smile on her face and she bit the corner of her lip nervously. "I did. What makes you think I didn't?" she asked.

Daryl lifted his chin and stared at the stall. He was trying not to picture her naked on the other side of the wall. "Ya ain't said nothin' since."

Carol bit her lip harder. "It's just…the more I thought about it…I just started thinking that maybe…"

"What?" Daryl asked in a low growl.

"I wasn't sure that it would be a good idea…to do it again." A flush spread across her cheeks at the admission.

The hunter considered her answer for a moment, and his thumb fell away from his mouth. "Mind if I ask why?"

She closed her eyes, sighing. "Sex changes things Daryl…it always does. It's messy, distracting…and I just don't think we need any more distractions. There's too much we need to do. We've got more important things to worry about."

Daryl nodded slowly, clasping his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. "So you just gonna act like it never happened? That it?"

She huffed, searching the recesses of her mind for an explanation that he might accept. When she came up empty handed, Carol brought a hand up to cup her forehead. "Daryl…" she pleaded with him. "It's late; you should go."

But the hunter wasn't satisfied. "Naw." he grunted.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Ain't goin' nowhere." he said, his voice low.

"Why?" she asked, at once scared and irritated.

Daryl gnawed the corner of his lip as he considered a response. With his narrowed eyes fixed on the stall, he growled into the dark. "I'm distracted."

Carol's lips parted; she didn't understand. In the next instant, she heard the bench creak.

The hunter stood slowly, his fingers working on the buttons of his sleeveless shirt.

"Daryl…what are you doing?" she asked, nervousness creeping into her voice.

"I'm tired of thinkin' about ya." he said as he continued to work the buttons through the holes.

She swallowed hard, her back still pressed to the wall. "You…you've been thinking about me?"

Daryl remained perfectly calm as he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and reached for his belt buckle. "You gonna tell me ya ain't been thinkin' about it?" he asked.

Carol felt a flush spread over her body. "I didn't say that…"

He slid his belt through the loops, letting it hit the floor. "Ain't nothing wrong with what we did. Ya know that, right?" his voice like gravel.

Carol's core tightened when she heard the clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor. "I…" she was struggling to form sentences. "I don't know that it's that simple." she said.

"It is." he argued, tugging at his zipper.

"How can you say that?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Daryl hissed as he pulled his zipper down, the tiny metal teeth nearly grazing his cock. "You're over thinkin' it." he said. "Way I see it…" he grunted as he pushed his pants down. "Ya wanted somethin'…'n ya took it."

Carol blushed, remembering the way she'd gripped his length, guiding him to her entrance. "Daryl…I didn't have any right to…"

"To what?" he interrupted, kicking the pants of the ends of his feet. "Fuck me?"

This was all proving to be too much for Carol. She could hear the rustling of his clothes and when he posed the question to her…point blank, she was at a loss. Sensing that he wasn't going to get an answer out of her, Daryl moved slowly towards the stall…lingering just outside. "Carol," he growled softly. "Like I said before…ain't here to bother ya…'n I ain't her to be a damn nag… If you tell me to go… I'll go."

Carol's heart was pounding in her chest. She knew it would be for the best if he left…but she couldn't find the words to tell him to leave. "Why are you here Daryl?" her voice was soft, her words almost muffled by the rush of the water.

The blood had long since rushed from the hunter's brain, pouring itself into his manhood instead. In that moment, with every nerve ending vibrating…with the knowledge that her naked, wet body was on the other side of the wall, he knew that he needed to be honest. He'd never been able to lie to her, and he certainly couldn't start now. He reached out, bracing one hand on the outer wall, his fingers splaying on the slick tile while his other hand went to his cock, tugging slowly. "_I wanted to touch ya_…" he breathed.

Carol could hear the sheer need in his voice and it unnerved her. Anxious, she pushed herself away from the wall and slowly started backing away towards the opposite end of the stall, her chest heaving as she tried not to slip. Daryl heard her breathing pick up but she hadn't told him to leave…taking her silence as an invitation, he braced himself and stepped into the stall.

Carol's entire body tensed, her back hit the opposite wall and her palms splayed against it, her nails clawing weakly at the tile…but there was no way out…nowhere she could go. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. She couldn't see much through the gloom, but she could make out the lines of his body and the burning, blue color of his eyes.

Daryl didn't even flinch when the cool water hit him, he kept moving, advancing towards her. He could see that she was scared, and something about her fear aroused him. Twelve, long, _miserable_ days and he'd finally cornered his prey; she couldn't get away from him now. As much as he wanted to touch her, _taste_ her…and feel the warmth of her wrapped around him…Daryl had no intention of pushing Carol into something she wasn't ready for. So he stopped, when just inches remained between them. He stared hard at the woman in front of him and tried to control his breathing. "Jus tell me ya don't want it…" he growled. "And I'll leave."

"I'm scared…" Carol breathed, her eyes locked on his.

"Why?"

She swallowed hard, trying to sort out the jumbled reasons in her head. "What if this is too much…what if we end up…." But Daryl had heard enough.

He stepped into her space, his hand going to her sex. She shuddered as his fingertips toyed lightly with her..teasing her entrance. "_You're thinkin' too much_…." he whispered into the crook of her neck.

Carol could barely breathe. Suddenly, nothing mattered but his fingers. She wanted so badly for him to slip inside her…to feel one of those calloused fingertips pushing into her heat. Without thinking, her hips bucked down into his hand and a low growl escaped her. Daryl smirked against her skin and nipped lightly at her neck. "_Tell me ya don't want it_…" he breathed.

But she couldn't speak. All the reasons she'd come up with, for staying away from him…they seemed to melt away the instant he touched her. Daryl ran his middle finger along her slit without penetrating. "If you don't tell me to stop…" he bit down softly on her shoulder, making her whine. "I'm gonna keep touchin' ya."

Carol was panting as she stared down at his cock. Even in the dark, she could make out the size of it…the length. Lust was beginning take over, like some toxin in her bloodstream. She seemed to want everything at once…to feel him inside her…to taste him…to hold him in her hand and stroke him… Half-crazed with a need she'd been denying for twelve days, Carol bucked down into his hand again.

The hunter knew what she wanted, but she'd made him wait so long…and he felt that he'd earned the right to toy with her. Pulling away from the safety of her neck, he stared at her. Her wet skin glistened in the dark, the beads of moisture highlighting every curve and peak. He felt her hips move down into his hand, but he still wouldn't penetrate her. Instead, he let one finger travel up to her clit where he slowly began to rub her. Carol moaned behind locked lips. "_Thought you was scared_…" he whispered.

"I….I…" she tried to speak but couldn't.

Daryl was standing so close to her, and he loved the way her hips jerked when he circled her clit. He traced the throbbing nub a few more times, making slow circles and then slid his fingertip down, along her slit, and forced it inside her without warning. A sharp cry burst from Carol's lips and she brought her hand to her mouth, trying to contain any screams that threatened to escape. This is what her body had been craving. She didn't want to accept it, but it was true. She'd missed his touch…missed having him inside her. The hunter smirked as he pushed his finger up, deeper into her core. "_You scared you're gonna come_?" he asked as he curled his finger, hitting a spot that made her muscles clench around him.

Carol clamped her thighs together, trapping him inside her…but he wasn't done playing. He slipped his finger free with a grunt, making her moan at the loss. "_Twelve days_…" he growled, bracing his hands on the wall, on either side of her head.

She stared at him, confused, while her heart continued to pound in her chest. She already missed the hardness of his finger and could feel wetness between her legs that had nothing to do with water. "_What_?" she breathed.

Daryl eyed her body before meeting her gaze. "_Twelve days since that goddamn chair_…" his cock was painfully hard but he had to keep talking. She needed to understand what he'd been going through. "_Twelve days since I been inside that pussy…ain't been able to think about nothin' else._"

Carol couldn't believe the way he was talking to her. She watched the way his chest rose and fell with each breath…and his eyes drank in every inch of her frame. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. "I…I'm sorry…" she swallowed hard.

"_Yeah_?" he breathed, his eyes burning into hers.

She managed a nod. "I've been thinking about you too…" she admitted.

"That right?" he grunted, his hips bucking weakly as he fought the urge to attack her. His blunt nails were clawing at the slick wall.

She nodded again. "You….you gave me the most…" but she was silenced when his lips hit hers.

Daryl's head was cocked to the side as he kissed her hard, his tongue slipping into her mouth. They held the connection for several seconds and then broke apart gasping. "_I know what I gave ya_…" he growled against her lips, remembering the feeling of her climax washing out around him. "_Been followin' your ass for twelve goddamn days tryin' to give it to ya again_."

Carol's eyes closed as he kissed her again. Her hands went to his slick chest, and she ran them slowly up his body until she was clutching at his shoulders. Daryl groaned into her mouth and suddenly he was moving backwards, pulling her away from the wall. His hands were resting on her small waist as they stood kissing under the spray of the shower. The cool droplets seemed to invigorate them and they kept their bodies pressed together…the smooth skin of her stomach gliding against his, they could feel water running down over planes of muscle, and disappearing between Carol's breasts. The hunter was having trouble processing the feeling of her nipples against his body. He tightened his grip on her waist, his erection digging into her belly. The sensations were overwhelming and Daryl was convinced that he wouldn't be able to get enough of her. He bit at her lips and sucked her tongue, making her hips buck. Carol was kissing him with the enthusiasm of a teenager…her sweet, wet, tongue massaging his and he felt the head of his cock tighten. The longer they held the connection, the more aggressive Carol seemed to become. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip and clawed at his shoulders, making Daryl believe that he wasn't the only one who'd had a difficult twelve days. As much as he loved this eager, aggressive side of her, the hunter was determined to take the lead.

That day in her cell, she'd taken the initiative. She made the offer...she mounted him like a damn show pony, taking what she needed without hesitation and without apology. While the whole thing turned him on, he was eager to show her that he had needs too…and he wasn't afraid to take what he wanted from her. His hands moved suddenly to her ass where he gripped the flesh hard, pushing her against him. Carol gasped into his mouth and bucked her hips. They were both smirking against each other's lips and Daryl grunted, his hands cupping her, just under her ass. With one jerk, he pulled her up and those long, pale legs wrapped securely around his waist. Her sex was smothering his erection, but he didn't care. He needed to be close to her. Their bodies were slick with cold water and he had to fight to maintain his grip on her firm ass.

Carol's arms wound around his neck when he lifted her. She kissed him harder, slipping her tongue under his and feeling his cock jerk in response. Carol was sure, as they continued to taste one another, that she'd never felt anything this good. She loved being wrapped around his hard body…their skin glistening with water…her ankles locked together, just above his ass… She clung to that strong neck like it was her lifeline, her tongue dipping into his mouth again. He didn't even need to be inside her…as far as she was concerned, they could stay like that…kissing, licking one another, sucking at each other's lips until they both came. She was convinced that he could get her to climax just by pushing his tongue into her mouth. Carol felt more wetness hit her core and her hips rocked against his, making him groan. Daryl's hands were sliding from the backs of her thighs to her ass, where he squeezed her hard. It hurt…his fingers pressing into the claw marks that were still healing, but Carol wasn't about to make him stop. She wanted him to touch her…

It didn't matter how cold the water was, Daryl was lost in the feeling of Carol's mouth…her warm tongue…her soft breasts pressed to his chest…the strength of those long, tone legs she had locked around him, and the way her sex was pushed against his manhood. Up until the moment he leaned in and caught her mouth with his, the hunter hadn't realized how much he wanted to kiss her…how much he _missed_ it. That afternoon in her cell, the sex had been incredible. They both came hard, sweating and cursing. But the kissing had been amazing in an entirely different way. The kisses gave him an excuse to get close to her…dangerously close. Using his lips and his tongue, Daryl felt that he could express things he'd never be able to say out loud. That day, in the chair, he wanted to thank her for the pleasure she brought him…he didn't know how to tell her what it meant, but he could show her. And now that they were finally together again, he found that he'd missed her taste…and he wanted to make sure she knew that. There was a low rumble in his chest as she sank her teeth into his bottom lip. Knowing that he couldn't wait any longer, Daryl slowly began walking her back towards the wall. His steps were careful as he tried to avoid slipping, but the kissing didn't stop. They were hungry for one another and Carol loved the feeling of his tongue exploring her mouth. She barely noticed that they were moving…

It was only when her back hit the slick wall that she opened her eyes and gasped. Droplets clung to her lashes but she blinked them away, staring hard into the eyes of her partner. The hunter dipped his head and let his tongue flick out against the skin of her neck. He could taste cool water and the salt of her sweat. Carol shivered, her nails clawing at his scalp, urging him to keep going. Daryl knew she wanted more, and he was eager to please. Without hesitation, he bit into the soft spot at the crook of her neck, making her jerk in his grasp. She was writhing, and whimpering against him, but he didn't stop. He let his teeth sink in to her flesh and then he began to suck hard, his tongue occasionally lapping at the now reddened skin.

As his mouth worked her neck, Carol could feel her walls opening. She clung desperately to his neck and bucked her hips against his.

_That's what he wants….he wants to get me ready…_

She let the sensations course through her….the raw lust, _animal_ need… There were sharp, stabbing pains in her core as her sex brushed his hard cock. That's when she knew that she needed him inside her. The hunter was still greedily sucking her neck, making her weak, but then his strong hands were gripping the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up his body. Carol gasped at the forcefulness with which he handled her. They worked together, one of her legs remained curled around his mid-section while the other was pushed up. He held up that creamy, pale leg…his fingers curling around the back of her knee as he exposed her core. It was dark, and hard to see, but Daryl angled his hips...positioning himself. He wasn't sure it if was instinct, or sheer determination, but he was able to guide his cock to its goal. A long hiss escaped him when he felt the head of his member press against the heat of her sex. Carol whined, her hips rocking weakly…her slickness gliding over the blunt head of his dick. They were both panting, vibrating as he pulled away from her neck and stared into her eyes. As they clung to one another, Daryl licked his lips and swallowed hard. "_This here's your last chance_…" he growled, moving his hips just enough to apply a sweet pressure to her entrance. "_Tell me ya don't want it…'n I'll stop_."

All Carol could think about was his cock…and how she wanted it inside her. She knew then, with her eyes locked on his, and the pain in her center growing worse…she wasn't really alive without him. She was empty…just another survivor, going through the motions…living out of habit. But when he was with her…_inside_ her, Carol felt startlingly awake and alive. He made her feel things she'd never experienced before…levels of longing and desire that seemed almost frightening in their intensity. A grey world, devoid of life, seemed to be suddenly flushed with vibrant color. With heightened senses, she took in the blue of his eyes, the taste of his skin, the feeling of his hands on her legs, the sound of his strained breathing and the blood rushing in her ears… She experienced all of it, with incredible clarity, and knew that she was finally living… Carol couldn't claim to know what the future held...she wasn't sure what they meant to one another. The one thing she did know was that they'd found themselves in the midst of a physical awakening. Maybe she was nothing more to him than a vessel….and maybe he was just a tool that she was using for her own selfish needs, but it didn't matter. They wanted one another, and there was nothing holding them back. There, in the gloom and isolation of the shower room, they could give in. They could take pleasure from each other, use one another until their bodies were spent. Nothing else mattered…it was only her, and him….electricity in their veins and shallow breaths passing their lips. Knowing that she couldn't deny her need any longer, Carol stared hard at the man looming over her. "_I want it_.." she breathed.

That was all it took. Daryl hoisted her leg up higher, opening her core, and then pushed himself inside. They both cried out when his engorged member slipped into the heat between her thighs. Her body slid down his shaft, her legs locking around his waist again while his hands returned to her thighs, holding her in place. He was completely buried in her core and her muscles were already massaging him. Her body seemed to welcome him in; he could feel the warm walls opening wider as she slowly sank down on him…until her pelvis was flush with his. Daryl closed his eyes, trying to savor the feeling of penetrating her.

Carol arched her back as she took him in. She could feel every solid inch of him filling her core, his veins rubbing against her walls. When she felt the tip of him push into her sex, Carol thought the sensation would be enough to make her come. He was everything her body needed. She was wet and her slickness helped him, the moisture gliding around his cock as he forced it inside. As he sank deeper and deeper, Carol felt that he might split her in half…she had to remind herself that she'd fucked him before…that she could handle it…but he was so big and it hurt her to have him inside. The pain didn't matter…it was good, it made her feel alive and she knew it would transform into incredible pleasure once they both started moving.

When Daryl felt that he couldn't push in any further, he let himself lean heavily against her…his body keeping her trapped against the wall. They were panting into each other's necks, adjusting to the feeling of being together again. The heat and pressure of her pussy was making Daryl restless and he worried that he wouldn't be able to restrain himself once they started. But he could feel how wet she was already…and her warm, shallow breaths were hitting his skin…. He wanted her to want this. Gritting his teeth, he slowly pulled back, the lower half of his shaft exposed while the rest remained inside her. Carol was clawing at the ends of his hair, her hips rocking, trying to coax him back into her core. But Daryl was in control. The moment he entered her, that body belonged to him and he was going to make it struggle.

He bit his lip and pushed back in slowly, letting her feel every part of his cock. She moaned, tugging sharply at his hair. The pace was going to drive the hunter crazy, but he wanted to toy with her. So he drew on his will power and continued to thrust lazily between her trembling legs. He growled at the feeling of those slick walls rubbing his cock, and all that warm flesh wrapped around him. He moved slowly, carefully…and kept his thrusts shallow, knowing that she would need more.

Carol had never been more frustrated in her life. She was wet, naked, offering him everything and he was treating her like she might break… She didn't understand. This was supposed to be about need. Carol wanted to feel all of him; she wanted him to push her as hard as he could…_stretch_ her, _claim_ her…but he seemed content to dip in and out of her aching core with absolutely no sense of urgency. She moaned and bucked against him. She needed him so badly that she couldn't help the desperate plea that fell from her lips. "_Harder_…"

Amused, Daryl eased back enough to look at her. "_You want somethin_?" he asked, his voice low and husky…his hips still moving between hers.

She nearly snarled, her nails digging into his shoulders while her core tightened around his shaft. "_Harder_…" she repeated.

The hunter leaned in, kissing her, his cock twitching within her walls. When he pulled away, his narrowed eyes were trained on her face. "_Ya made me wait twelve days_…" he growled under his breath.

Carol stared at him in disbelief. She could feel him pull back again, his member slipping out of her core…her insides clung to him, not wanting to let go. She didn't know what to say. He remained calm and pushed back in at a painfully slow pace. "How badly do ya want it?" he asked, licking his lips.

She was suffering. She needed to feel his cock pushing up into her center. All she could do was buck against him.

But the hunter just smirked at her. "Naw," he said. "Way I see it…" he licked his lips again. "This here's _mine_." He gave her a strong, sudden thrust that made her scream. Carol's muscles instantly began to convulse around him. "Ya keep these legs open for me, 'n ya keep that pussy wet…I'll give ya whatever ya want. But I ain't waitin' no twelve days to get inside ya again." His chest was heaving as he stared at her.

Carol couldn't believe the things he was saying to her…the demands he was making. But something about his voice made her core tremble, and the forcefulness only made her want him more. She was restless, impatient, and she needed him to keep going. So she leaned in, whispering against his lips. "_Fuck me_."

Daryl kissed her, sucking at her tongue, making her moan. When they broke for air, he was staring at her. "_Fine_…just so long as you know this ain't gonna be the last time."

Carol answered by bucking against him. The hunter didn't need further instruction. He gripped her thighs hard and thrust into her tight, heat, making her cry out. The broken sound echoed in his ears and he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to make her scream, _cry_, _curse_, _whine_..he wanted to drive her crazy. So he clenched his jaw and pumped his hips, working hard between her legs. Her heels were pressing into his ass, urging him to go deeper and he increased his speed, loving the feeling of her wetness sliding around him. He could feel his cock getting harder, swelling within her narrow passage but he wasn't stopping. He'd waited long enough to get inside her and he was going to enjoy every second.

Carol sank her teeth into her bottom lip and closed her eyes. Somehow, it was even better than she remembered. She didn't know if it was due to the fact that they were both naked…or that they were entirely alone and didn't have to worry about keeping quiet…but it was good. She arched her back, taking as much of him as she could…her nails raking from his shoulders, down his chest. The pain didn't seem to bother him. He was growling, nipping at her jaw line, kissing her neck, _biting_, _sucking_…as if he couldn't get enough of her…all the while her hips were moving deliciously against his. They each relished what they'd found in the other and Carol wondered how long they would last. He was moving faster, barely giving her time to take a breath between thrusts, and her heart was beating furiously in her chest. But she loved it…everything he did seemed to heighten her pleasure…the fluid motion of his hips between her legs, the firm grip he had on her thighs, the feeling of his wet scruff against her neck and the way his strong, hard body was keeping her pinned to the wall. He was so stiff insider her, and thickness of his shaft was stretching her…making her legs shake. She loved the way he filled her, and the friction he created with every push and pull…It was starting to make her dizzy.

Daryl was lost in her wet heat. He heard every little whimper..every breathy moan that passed her lips when he forced himself up into her core. She seemed to enjoy whatever he did and her enthusiasm was spurring him on. The hunter couldn't recall that last time he'd felt such freedom. He could grab whatever part of her he wanted…he could growl, _cuss_…fuck her as hard as he wanted..drilling himself into her pussy while she dug her nails into his skin… Her slick body was trapped under his and the control he seemed to have over her…_over the whole situation_…was giving him the most incredible high. He was the one to hound her…staring at her while they worked, thinking about her at night and finally stalking her in the dark like a damn wolf until he finally got her where he wanted her. It took him twelve days, but he managed to get her right where she belonged, _naked_, underneath him. As he worked her body, Daryl was filled with a sense of power and dominance. He was staking a claim, marking his territory with every jerk of his hips. Snarling through clenched teeth, he squeezed her thighs and pushed harder…using all his strength to fuck right into her center. He sank into her depths, savoring the slick warmth that waited for him. Her walls were clenching him tighter now and he knew she was close.

Carol was fighting for air. She felt as though she were losing her mind, coming unglued as he moved faster. The feeling of his long, throbbing cock forcing her walls open and slipping into the deepest parts of her was making Carol's mouth dry. He was in control of her body…he seemed to possess her and she didn't mind. Everything she had was his for the taking. So she bucked wildly against him, meeting him stroke for stroke, making them both moan. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling their bodies closer so she could bite down on his collar bone. The sensation made his dick jerk and he began thrusting harder. He sucked her ear lobe and held it between his teeth as they continued to move together. "_I wanna feel ya come_." he whispered, her flesh still caught in his teeth.

She nodded, her eyes slamming shut as she focused on the feeling of him inside her. She thought about how hard he was and her walls began to twitch. She remembered the way it felt when he came…the sudden burst of warmth between her legs as he let go that day in her cell. It was all so feral…_carnal_, _reckless_…and Carol found herself craving that warmth again. She wanted to feel his orgasm…have him fill her… His body was pounding desperately into hers and the head of his cock was teasing her cervix with each push, making her ache…as if she couldn't contain him. Her walls had grown so slick and he slid easily in and out of her pussy, grunting as he moved inside her. His speed and momentum continued to build and Carol felt herself losing control. Nothing mattered but him and what he was doing to her… She hissed as she clung to his neck "_Yessss_…."

"_C'mon_" he snapped at her.

"_Trying_…." she gasped. "I…._just_…._need_…"

But he already knew. Her body was trembling, vibrating around him and her heels were pressing hard into his ass. He almost had her and he wasn't going to let up until she finished. So he bit into her neck, making her scream. Without releasing her neck, he thrust harder and deeper, searching for the spot that held all her tension. He moved back and forth, pushing up into that tight, narrow core…his hard-on going so deep that he knew it had to hurt her. But she kept moving with him, her body seeking release…walls opening and closing around him. As he fucked her, Daryl could feel his own climax building. If he didn't break her soon, he was going to come. So he closed his eyes and focused on the warm, wet flesh…the incredible suction between their bodies…the way her pussy seemed to draw him in, as deep as it could…letting him feel that place in her center that no one had ever reached before. It felt right…natural for him to be inside her and he was savoring every motion of their hips. All he wanted was for her to hit her peak, and he knew that he could get her there. He felt his cock get harder…the shaft growing and swelling inside her, and he forced it as far as it would go, thrusting like an animal with no restraint. He hit the top of her and felt her entire body grow rigid. Her legs were locked so tightly around him and her hand had formed a fist in his hair…tugging violently. Carol threw her head back, her body arching into him and her mouth open in a silent scream as a powerful orgasm struck, stealing the air from her lungs. Her core flooded and the muscles began to constrict, almost painfully around Daryl's manhood.

When the hunter felt her insides quiver, and felt the rush of warm wetness coating his cock, he growled, ramming his hips into hers. Her body shuddered with each thrust, but she didn't have the strength to resist him. She was still lost in her own ecstasy and Daryl was free to be as fast and rough as he wanted. He hissed at the sensation of moving his dick in and out of her already trembling pussy. She was so wet and soft and he loved the way she felt, clenching and releasing him as she worked through her orgasm.

"Keep….going…" she groaned weakly, her eyes still closed.

Eager to oblige, Daryl continued fucking her….his cock now jerking and leaking each time he pushed inside. The head was getting painfully tight and the shaft was so hard but if she wanted him to keep going, he would do it. So he pushed and pulled, muttering curses into her skin and clawing at her thighs. The wetness that was gliding around him was driving him crazy and he felt like he needed to let go but then something changed. Carol's hips started to move again, slowly at first…then faster. Her already slick core was tightening all over again and Daryl's lips parted when he realized what was happening. She was going to come again… His head was spinning as his body worked to satisfy her. He wanted so badly to give her whatever she needed, but it was too much. The desperate moans falling from her lips…the motion of her body and the way she clung to him. Daryl only had so much strength and his resolve was crumbling each time her pussy squeezed him. She clenched and unclenched, walls opening and closing… The very next time her body opened up, the hunter knew he had to seize the opportunity. Her walls welcomed him and he thrust his manhood fiercely into her tight passage…she constricted around him and the sensation was overwhelming. Daryl bucked wildly, _fucking_ her, releasing all the tension that had been trapped inside him for twelve days. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside her, sending a gush of semen up into her core. Somewhere, in the haze and delirium of his climax, the hunter felt more wetness seeping from her…and her walls were quivering around him. As he fought to catch his breath and remain standing, Daryl realized something.

_She came again…_

The corner of his mouth quirked up in smug satisfaction while the rest of his body ached and throbbed in the aftermath of orgasm. His hips were still bucking weakly as he emptied his seed into her pussy. She helped, her muscles squeezing him...coaxing his pleasure from him until he was too weak to move. The blood gradually stopped rushing in their ears and they could hear the soft spray of the shower…droplets striking the floor. They were both feeling somewhat disoriented and Daryl needed to sit down. Carefully and slowly, he lowered them both to the ground, his sedated cock slipping from between her legs. They both groaned as they sat on the cold floor and struggled to get their bearings. Carol had her knees raised and she clamped her legs shut, savoring lingering pulses of pleasure in her core.

The last time they'd been together, Carol suspected that she might have come a second time…but there in the shower room…the sheer ecstasy she'd experienced left no room for doubt…he'd given her two orgasms, in rapid succession…compounding her pleasure.

_Jesus christ…_

Carol brought a hand to her temple and released a heavy sigh of satisfaction. Before the haircut, Carol didn't even think it was possible to have two climaxes, so close together.

_Fuck…_

All she wanted was to drink a glass of water, fall into her bunk, and sleep for the next ten hours. Suddenly remembering her partner, Carol pushed the wet hair back from her forehead and stared at him through the gloom. He sat just a few inches away, his legs crossed. He was leaning forward, his head in his hands as he waited for his breathing to slow. Knowing that they needed a few minutes to cool off, but that neither of them had the strength to stand, Carol made herself crawl towards him. The instant she moved, she could feel a powerful ache between her legs…but the soreness was a small price to pay to for such intense pleasure.

He lifted his chin when he heard her moving. She reached his side and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him onto his back. Without the strength to resist, the hunter reclined, grunting when he felt the slick floor at his back. Carol smiled, easing down to lay on her side, right next to him. They stared at one another, lazy smiles on their faces. Lying on the floor, beneath the spray of water, Daryl and Carol let the chilled droplets pelt their skin. There was something soothing about the water…it was almost as if they'd been caught in the rain. They blinked when it clung to their lashes, and brought their hands up to wipe it from their eyes but they were both too weak to move.

One arm was folded behind Daryl's head, while the other rested on his stomach. His chest rose and fell as his breathing continued to slow. His eye were fixed on the woman beside him and she stared back…each of them seemingly fascinated with the other. After what seemed like an eternity, the hunter finally felt like he could speak. "So…" he growled softly.

Carol chuckled. She was propped on one elbow, watching him. "_So_…" she echoed.

He smirked, eyeing her breasts for a moment. "How was it?"

She felt herself blush. "It was good."

Daryl was tempted to laugh. "And to think your ass wasn't gonna give me the time of day…"

Carol sighed, running a hand through her wet hair. "You don't know that…"

"Sure as hell made me work for it." he said.

"I was just worried about distracting you…well, both of us…" she admitted.

"Right." he huffed. "Cuz it ain't like I been distracted all this time anyhow..."

She chuckled again and they fell into a comfortable silence, each of them listening to the spray of the shower. After several minutes, Daryl felt the need to say something. He nudged her leg with his foot. "Hey."

She bit the corner of her lip and smirked at him. "What?"

The hunter rolled onto his side so that he could face her. "All that talk before...'bout you keepin' your legs open…" he paused, trying to collect his thoughts. "I'm sorry…ain't got a right to talk to ya like that…I was just riled…that's all."

Carol brows knit together as she studied him. "Daryl…"

But he bowed his head and forced himself to keep going. "Ain't got no claim on ya. You decide ya don't want this…just say so. I'll leave ya be. Ya don't owe me nothin'."

Carol could see that that the statements were weighing on him…the things he'd growled against her lips in a fit of lust and passion… Something in her expression softened and she reached out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear. "I owed you an explanation…" she whispered, making him look at her. "After what happened in my cell…I had no right to cut you out…I never should've avoided you. It was on both of us but I made the decision alone. I was only doing what I thought was best… When I should've just come clean…I should've told you what I was thinking from the start." Her fingertips lingered on the damp skin just below his ear.

The hunter ran one hand along her curves, following the line of her body. He felt the slick skin, gliding beneath his palm as he moved it from her shoulder…down, along her side, all the way to her hip. She closed her eyes, groaning softly at the feeling of his hand on her body. "I'm still sorry…" he said, his voice low. "Can't believe I said all that shit…surprised you didn't smack my dumb ass…I ain't got a right to talk about your damn pussy…"

Carol couldn't help but chuckle. "It's fine." she said, smirking at him.

"Sayin' you ain't mad?" he asked, hopeful, his hand still resting on her hip.

She answered by leaning in and catching his bottom lip between her teeth; she held the tender flesh for half a heartbeat before letting go and meeting his gaze. "I'm not mad," she whispered.

Daryl's tongue darted out over his lip, soothing the spot she'd just bitten.

"And between you and me…" she added, grabbing his hand and guiding him until he was cupping her sex. "This _does_ belong to you." She bucked against his hand.

The hunter was staring at her in disbelief. "You sure about that?"

She nodded, chuckling. She was still propped on one elbow and her eyebrow arched as she watched him. "You see me giving anyone else haircuts?"

It was Daryl's turn to smirk. He toyed gently with the sweet spot between her legs…his fingertips exploring. "Ain't tryin' to push this on ya…."

Carol snorted in amusement. "Sure. You're just following me into the shower at night…"

The hunter's hand moved back to her hip and he pulled her body flush against his, his eyes lingering on her mouth. "Ain't ya glad I did?" he growled softly.

She grinned, kissing his jaw. There was a low rumble coming from his chest and then their lips met…tongues probing, seeking entrance. When they broke for air, their breathing had picked up and they were smirking at one another. Carol licked her lips, tasting him there. "I'm not one to brag…" she laughed lightly. "But we're pretty good at this." she slid one of her legs up between his, her knee nearly brushing his groin.

Daryl moved so that he could suck at her neck. "Think we're _better_ than good…" he muttered against her skin.

She smiled, wondering how in the hell they ended up cold, naked and wet…lying tangled together on the shower room floor…the weak spray of water falling lightly across their exhausted, aching bodies. The feeling of his mouth, sucking hard at her neck, was making Carol bite her lip. "Guess it would be a shame to stop…" she said, sighing happily.

Daryl grunted into the crook of her neck. "_Damn_ _shame_…" After kissing and licking her bruised skin, he pulled back and met her gaze. "You gonna make me wait another twelve days?"

Carol shook her head slowly, smirking at him. "No…I'm not."

The hunter didn't know what to say…part of him had been sure that she would turn him down when he first entered the wash room…he'd hoped for answers, physical contact of some sort…but he never expected things to turn out like this. He didn't think they'd wind up curled on the floor together…or that he'd get to lie with her, watching the clear beads of water roll down between her breasts. He must've been lost in his own head because suddenly she was clearing her throat to get his attention. "Hm?" he asked, lifting his chin to look at her.

"By the way…." she chuckled, biting the corner of her lip as a flush spread across her cheeks. "It's _thirteen_."

A crease formed in Daryl's brow. "What?" he asked, confusion plain in his voice.

Carol bucked her hips weakly against his. "It's been thirteen days since your haircut…" she explained, smirking at him.

The hunter's lips parted in awe. "What…how did….?"

But she didn't let him finish. Instead, Carol reached for his hair, tangling her fingers in the dark locks. "_You weren't the only one counting_…" she whispered, using her grip to pull his mouth to hers.

**I know! It was a little longer than the others, but this was a challenging request and I wanted to do it justice, so it took some time to work out the kinks. I hope you liked it Scifi Riot : ) I certainly gave it my best shot! As always, I had fun with this and I hope you guys did too! I write my requests in the order they're received, just to be fair…so rest assured, if I haven't posted yours, I'm working on it! If you liked this chapter, please tell me why in the reviews. How was the character interaction, was it funny at all? Did I do alright with the cuteness factor? I wanna hear your thoughts, so please review : ) xoxo **

**-Sami**


	6. Coping

**Happy holidays! Thanks for the awesome reviews to the last chapter; I'm glad you guys enjoyed it : ) I'm excited to be posting another request; this one comes from the very sweet Lisab876! She wanted to see our group take shelter in a mall (think Dawn of the Dead remake). This is a true one-shot and does not fit in with what has become known as the "haircut" mini-series. This chapter takes place post-mid-season finale and our survivors have been on the run, trying to find a place to rest and recoup while they figure out their next moves. Lucky for them, they come across an abandoned mall…how will they ever keep themselves entertained…surrounded by stores of every sort? Miss Lisa also requested that they visit one store in particular ; ) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead….but the fun we would have if I **_**did**_** : )**

**Chapter 6: Coping**

The survivors were doing their best to keep a tight formation. Rick, Abraham and Michonne lead the group while Carol and Daryl were close behind. The others; Carl, Noah, Tyreese, Sasha and Tara were jogging to keep up. Everyone had their weapons raised. Glenn and Maggie were near the back; Glenn had an arm curled around his wife's waist as he urged her to keep moving. Rosita and Eugene brought up the rear…the would-be scientist lagging behind, fighting for every breath. They were all nearing their breaking points. After leaving the hospital, they'd run into more walkers than they were prepared to handle. The survivors were still so shaken, after witnessing the death of one of their own…they struggled to maintain focus. They didn't have a plan…they didn't know where they were going…all they knew was that they had to run.

They were panting, dripping sweat…their muscles screaming… But they couldn't stop. They were physically and emotionally drained. The only thing that kept them going was Rick's voice as the man yelled orders. Somehow, the deputy managed to keep his own grief at bay in order to help his people. With his pistol at his waist and the machete clutched tightly in his hand, Rick Grimes lead the ragged group of survivors through the streets of Atlanta. He wouldn't let them stop and he wouldn't let them slow down. His jaw was clenched hard as he ignored the burning in his lungs and kept moving.

_There's gotta be a place…_

A sudden movement caught his eye and he noticed walkers advancing in the periphery of his vision. They were stumbling down dark alleys, dragging their feet, _hissing_…_snarling_. Others were emerging from abandoned vehicles…their wasted bodies collapsing as they crawled out of half-open car doors. Rick glanced left, then right as he felt the beads of sweat rolling down his neck. He knew his group didn't have the strength to deal with this many corpses…

_Not now…._

Somewhere behind him, he could hear Tyreese's heavy footsteps as the man jogged alongside his sister. Judith was secured to Tyreese's chest in a make-shift sling. The deputy's main concern was getting all of them off the street. But time and options were running out…he needed to find a place for his children…they needed shelter. After everything they'd been through, as a group…as a _family_, Rick wasn't about to let his people get ripped apart in the middle of the street. So he kept his head clear and yelled at them over his shoulder. "_Keep movin'…stay tight_!"

They were crying out…_exhausted_…their voices cracking. Chests were heaving and angry tears were forming in the corners of their eyes. Teeth were bared in hateful growls as the survivors continued to push themselves, each of them fighting through the pain and fatigue that threatened to overtake them at any moment. At first, the deputy had been able to distinguish the sounds of their voices. He could hear Maggie's broken cries, Carol urging Daryl to keep going, Rosita yelling at Eugene to hurry…but as his lungs burned, and his muscles began to tremble with exhaustion, Rick realized that he couldn't hear them anymore…his _people_. Their screams and sobs had become one desperate, discordant, whirling storm of sound in his skull. The rushing of blood in his ears was beginning to drown them out. It was all too much…there were too many walkers and Rick didn't know what to do. He didn't have an answer….a way out. With adrenaline coursing furiously through his veins, the deputy clutched his machete tighter and lead the group around a sharp corner.

There were several gasps and eyes widened as the survivors stared into the dark, gaping entrance of a parking garage. None of them liked the idea of seeking refuge in the shadows…where anything might be lurking, but they were out of time. The corpses were closing in. Suddenly, Rosita grunted…her fingers curling around the handle of her blade as she jerked, twisting her body and driving the weapon into the skull of a walker. The dead thing had reached for her, clutching at the back of her shirt with a grey, rotted hand. Before the creature could drag Rosita to the ground, she buried her blade in its wasted flesh and the corpse fell away…its dead eyes staring up at her from the asphalt. But there was no time… The instant she freed herself from the walker's grasp, Rosita was grabbing Eugene's arm and hauling him after the others…she scarcely had a moment to pull a strained breath into her lungs.

_"C'mon….now!" _Rick snarled, beckoning them to follow him into the garage. The gate had long since been broken, the splintered remains strewn at the base of the ramp that led into the cement structure. Steeling themselves, the group hurried up the ramp, their footsteps echoing throughout the gloomy garage. As they ran, lost and scared through the surrounding blackness, they could hear bodies shuffling…broken feet dragging on the ground…and the terrible, familiar moans of the undead. Pale, eerie, glowing eyes emerged from the shadows and walkers began stumbling out from between abandoned cars. The survivors didn't stop. They kept running…they didn't have a choice. They growled and grunted, lashing out at anything that got too close…their limbs aching with the effort…their weapons seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. But they kept moving. Everything seemed to blur after they reached the second level of the garage…

There was shouting, _pointing_…a sudden, blinding light that stung their eyes. A heavy door was pushed open and the survivors were spilling out onto a covered walkway that was connected to another building. No one had time to ask questions. There were corpses behind them…_around_ them, reaching out for their clothes…their _legs_… They nearly tripped over the garbage and human remains that littered the walkway…but they kept moving. Friends took hold of each other's hands, urging them on, dragging them when they had to. Siblings shouted at one another, telling each other to run. They finally came to a jarring halt when they reached the end of the walkway and found themselves staring at a pair of doors…the handles had been chained. It was a dead end. With his jaw set hard and sweat trickling down his neck, Abraham raised his rifle and slammed the stock into the glass doors… A sharp crack formed under the impact, spreading like a crooked line across the pane. But the man didn't let up. He huffed, his cheeks flushed with color, and slammed his weapon into the door again…and again. Just as the walkers began to close in on the group…Abraham brought his arm up, shielding his eyes as the glass shattered…the jagged shards glimmering in the afternoon light before raining down on the concrete. Breathless and out of options, the survivors pushed past one another and stumbled through the entrance, careful not to catch their skin on the broken glass that still clung to the metal door frames. None of them knew where they were, or what was waiting for them inside the strange building, but they knew they couldn't stay outside.

Six days had passed since Rick lead his group into the mall. The deputy didn't consider himself to be much of a believer…at least not since the world turned, but he felt that something had lead them to the shelter they found that day. The mall had proven to be more than any of them could've hoped for. They'd worked tirelessly the first two days….securing any entrances they could find and clearing stores. They'd come across more dead corpses than live ones and they helped each other to drag the wasted bodies outside. The mall had two stories. Whenever walkers or other remains were found on the second level, they were promptly dragged to the nearest window and dropped to the street below. With the exception of Judith, and whoever happened to be watching her, none of them rested those first two days. They didn't want to stop until they knew the sprawling building was secure…and until any trace of the undead had been cleared away.

While there were large department stores at each end of mall, and a wide range of smaller shops in between, the survivors opted to stick close to one another. They had all the space they could possibly need, but given the trials they'd faced, none of them seemed comfortable separating. So they gathered food, from overturned stalls, broken vending machines and several specialty shops. Fortunately, they'd stumbled upon a health and wellness store. The floor was littered with vitamin bottles of every shape and size…supplements, powdered protein dinks, metallic pouches of energy gel and plastic baggies filled with bits of dried fruit. The group was grateful for anything that might contain actual nutrients as they didn't expect to last long on chips and candy bars alone. Each day, they gathered what they could and took their findings back to the crude base they'd established in one of the larger department stores.

Having lost most of their belongings in their haste to flee Gabriel's church and then the hospital, the survivors couldn't lay claim to much more than their weapons. They felt the need to remain close to one another, but they also respected each other's space. Weapons served as the only markers for territory. Daryl's bow lay on the display bed he'd claimed in the furniture department. His ruck-sack had been dropped by the side of the bed. Glenn and Maggie shared a display bed that was a bit further from the others. Maggie hadn't been comfortable with much socialization since her sister's death. Some of the survivors arranged bedrolls on the floor by gathering pillows and linen from different departments. Sleeping bags were scavenged from a sporting goods store and there was no shortage of blankets. Slowly but surely, the group members made their camp and tried desperately to recuperate.

Rick preferred having two people on watch at all times. He wanted a good set of eyes at each end of the mall, in case anyone or anything tried to breach either of the entrances. More often than not, others would volunteer. They were all searching for things to keep them occupied and it wasn't unusual to see three or four people patrolling the mall at once. Glenn rarely left Maggie's side, and the two of them seemed to become the resident babysitters for Judith. Glenn hoped that interacting with the child would help lift his wife's spirit, if only slightly. Since no one considered Eugene to be much of a fighter, he was tasked with taking inventory of their supplies and rationing their food. Tara, Tyreese, Carl and Noah took turns scavenging for anything that might prove useful, working their way from one store to the next. They made a point to grab anything that could be used as a weapon, or any objects that would help barricade the mall's entrances. Rick, Abraham, Carol, Michonne, Sasha and Rosita dominated the watch shifts. None of them minded; they each needed to feel as though they were doing something important…_contributing somehow_. The only person who hadn't found a role in their new shelter was Daryl.

He'd withdrawn into himself…not speaking to anyone…or even looking at them. When the group first decided to establish their base in one of the large department stores, Daryl wanted to sleep on the floor, in a corner…far from the others. It was only at the collective urging, of everyone in the group, that he finally gave in and claimed one of the display beds. And even then…he seemed uncomfortable. He rarely slept and when he did, his muscles twitched every so often, and he muttered softly into his pillow, as if he were caught in some horrible nightmare…someplace even darker than the waking world he left behind.

On several occasions, Carol stood beside his bed, in the middle of the night, and carefully combed her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. He never woke...never saw her. She was sure he'd never even realized she was there…but she couldn't sleep when she knew that he was suffering. The hushed, pleading, words that he muttered kept her awake and she just wanted to comfort him. So she crept from her own bed and watched over him. He was so restless, and she'd been tempted to speak to him…whisper something to let him know that it was alright, but Carol couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing would change what happened at the hospital…the graphic tragedy was etched into their memories…and even sleep didn't offer relief. So she settled for keeping a silent vigil, her fingers combing lightly through his tangled hair. Warm sighs passed her lips as she held back her own emotions and stared hopelessly out into the surrounding blackness.

_I'm so sorry…._

The sun was just beginning to set, on their sixth day, and the group members were each occupied with their own tasks. Carol and Rosita had been on watch for a few hours, the two women finally feeling as though they were getting to know one another. They were at the South end of the mall, lost in conversation, when the sound of approaching footsteps caused them both to look up. Rick and Abraham were headed towards them.

"Hey." Carol said.

Rick nodded to her. "Anything to report?"

She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "It's quiet. We haven't heard walkers at the doors for the last two days. They must've moved on."

"Maybe." Abraham huffed.

"What about camp?" Rosita asked, hefting the rifle that was slung over her shoulder. "Everybody okay?"

"I'd say they're doin' as well as can be expected." said the deputy. "Eugene's just about got all the supplies squared away. He thinks, if we stick to the rations, we've got food for another month."

Carol folded her arms across her chest. "A month? Well that's good news, right?" she asked as she eyed her companions.

Abraham scratched at the scruff under his chin. "Question is…what do we do a month from now? We gonna make a supply run 'n come back here…or we thinkin' about movin' on?"

Rick sighed. "I don't know. Guess that's a conversation we're all gonna need to sit down 'n have together."

A somber silence settled over the small group as they each considered the hardships that they would undoubtedly face when they left the mall…_if_ they left. The deputy saw the shadows that had fallen across the women's features, and he cleared his throat, rousing them from their thoughts. They both looked up at the sound.

"You've been out here a while. Go on back and get some rest; eat somethin'." Rick reached out and placed a hand on Carol's shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"You sure?" she asked. "We're fine here…really…" she pointed to Rosita and the woman nodded.

"I'm sure." he said, patting Carol's shoulder one last time before releasing her. "Now go on."

She gave him a weak smile and moved to leave. Rosita followed, but the younger woman paused when she passed Abraham. She reached for his hand and took a moment to squeeze it, the two of them locking eyes. But Abraham nodded, signaling that it was alright for Rosita to head back to camp without him. As the women walked away, Rick called out to them. "Enjoy the refreshments."

Carol and Rosita paused, their brows knitting together as they exchanged glances.

"Go on." Rick yelled again.

So the two companions shrugged and resumed their trek back to the department store. "Do you know what that was about?" Rosita asked.

Carol sighed. "I have no idea."

"You gonna have any?" Sasha asked as she eyed her brother.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm good."

"You sure?" she asked, offering him the wine bottle.

Tyreese pushed the bottle away gently. "I'm sure. You go on."

Sasha sighed in defeat.

Tyreese placed a hand on his sister's shoulder. "It's fine. Ain't nothing wrong it. Rick gave you the go ahead."

She sighed again, staring down at the bottle that was resting in her lap. She and Tyrese were sitting on the carpeted floor of the department store, surrounded by the other members of their group. They found the alcohol early on, in one of the specialty shops. While the survivors weren't comfortable partaking, on that first exhausting night in the mall, they'd held onto the stash…just in case. The world they lived in was a dark one…a ruthless, blood-stained, angry world. Even though it made them feel weak, each of the survivors wanted an escape. Some of them found their relief in dreamless sleep, while others preferred to stay busy…constantly occupied. But now that they were finally beginning to get comfortable in their new surroundings, a few of the group members wondered if there might be another way to escape…to relieve stress… They couldn't blow off steam by stabbing walkers…they'd been trapped indoors for nearly a week. The survivors needed to relieve tension and they seemed to suddenly remember the alcohol that they'd stock piled during their first two days in the mall.

As several of the group members stood staring down at the assortment of wine and liquor bottles, they shifted on their feet and folded their arms across their chests. It was immediately apparent that none of them had been heavy drinkers before the world turned. Glenn's brows knit together as he remembered his time at the CDC… the way his skull ached the morning after their celebratory dinner…the taunting he'd fallen victim to, from Daryl, Rick, T-Dog and Shane… The deputy practically had to haul him up off the floor the next morning. As difficult as that next day had been…Glenn wasn't entirely opposed to another night of carefree drinking. He wasn't too proud to admit that he needed something…anything that might help numb the pain they'd all been struggling with for the last week. Rick gave them all the go-ahead, saying that he and Abraham would volunteer for watch if the others wanted some down time. But even so…the survivors seemed reluctant to indulge. They so rarely allowed themselves to relax, that the idea of shrugging their responsibilities, in order to drink, seemed almost ludicrous.

Realizing that someone needed to take the first step, Sasha had cleared her throat and stooped to grab hold of one of the wine bottles. Anxious and uncomfortable, she'd quickly retreated, heading to her bedroll. Tyreese followed after her, which lead them to where they were now…sitting side by side, staring at the bottle that was resting in Sasha's lap.

"Ain't nothing wrong with it." Tyreese repeated, trying to comfort his sister.

She glanced at him with tired eyes. "Guess you're right. You really gonna make me drink alone?"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "No."

Her face brightened slightly as a weak smile appeared on her lips.

"Come on," he urged. "Let's get it open."

She chuckled softly, pulling a pocket knife from her belt. With nimble fingers, she flicked out one of the attachments, a small cork screw, and began working at the cork. "Told you this thing would come in handy one day." she smirked at him.

Tyreese smiled, shaking his head.

With a grunt, Sasha pulled the cork free. "Cheers" she said, as she raised the bottle to her lips and took a sip.

Tyreese chuckled when her saw her face scrunch up in disgust. "How is it?" he asked.

She coughed a little, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's dry."

They were both laughing and didn't hear the approaching footsteps.

"You guys starting without us?" Tara asked.

Tyreese and Sasha stared up at their visitors. Tara, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie and Eugene stood together, each of them with a different bottle tucked under their arms.

"We brought our own." said Michonne as she held up another wine bottle.

Tyreese smiled, gesturing at the carpet and furniture around them, "Get comfortable."

Slowly but surely, the survivors got settled. Some of them sat on the carpet with Sasha and Tyreese, while others lounged on display beds. Their initial reservations began to fade as they sampled the libations. They found themselves talking, remembering, even laughing at times. The sound seemed strange…it had been so long since they'd been able to laugh. But lips were loosened and tension was gradually melting away. Even Maggie seemed to be somewhat relaxed, her head leaning against Glenn's shoulder as she occasionally took sips of his wine. They knew that the alcohol wouldn't change anything…their problems would still be waiting for them in the morning…terrible memories nagging at their consciousness, but they so desperately wanted to forget…if only for a few hours. They wanted to let the warmth from the wine fill them up…giving a rosy tint to their thoughts.

Carol and Rosita stood, amazed by the scene in front of them. Their fellow survivors were drinking, _chuckling_…there was color in their cheeks… "I guess this is what Rick meant by refreshments…" said Carol, her arms folded across her chest.

The group members looked up, glad to see that they had more drinking companions. "Care to join?" Tara asked, holding up her bottle. "It tastes like piss, but if you can get past that…it's alright."

Rosita cracked a smile. "Guess I'll have some." She set down her rifle and made her way carefully through the throng of bodies before slumping down beside Tara.

Glenn glanced up at Carol. "Come on, you know you want to."

She snorted, smirking at him. "Who has the baby?"

"It's fine. Noah and Carl have her. They're good." said Glenn, a smile on his face.

Carol shook her head and turned to walk away, but Glenn called after her. "Hey; aren't you gonna join us?"

She looked over her shoulder. "I'll be back; just dropping my gear off. Carry on."

When Carol reached her display bed, she shrugged the rifle off her shoulder and took off her jacket. She was tucking her knife and other small weapons away for later use when she noticed movement nearby. With the sun beginning to set, the department store was dimly lit. But Carol looked up and saw that Daryl was propped up on his own bed, drinking. She stared at the glass bottle he held, and the amber colored liquid inside.

He must've noticed her staring because in the next instant, he was growling at her. "Need somethin'?" He didn't look at her, he simply took another swig from his bottle.

Carol cleared her throat and hugged herself. "No; I just came to drop off my stuff…I was going to join the others… Don't suppose you'd wanna tag along?" she asked.

He snorted. "Nah."

She sighed, frustrated, and walked around her bed until she stood beside his. "Why not?"

He finally looked at her, a scowl on his face. "Ain't none of your concern."

She ran her hands over her face in exasperation. "Why do you always do this?"

"Do what?" he snapped. The hunter was propped up against the pillows that covered the make shift headboard on his display bed.

"Pull away." she said.

Daryl glared at her and took another pull from his bottle.

"You close yourself off and disappear. We need you…we need everyone. With everything that's happened…we can't afford to lose anyone else…not by their own choice." she said, her blue eyes fixed on him.

He snorted again. "You're one to talk about disappearin'."

Carol rubbed the back of her neck, remembering the way she'd acted after Terminus. She hadn't opened up to anyone; she didn't want to tell them what happened to the girls. Whenever Daryl approached her for answers, she offered up excuses and turned away. But she only did what she thought was best. Carol was still recovering from the things she'd seen and done at the grove…the others didn't need those images in their heads. Daryl was right…she'd pulled away and now she was chastising him for the same behavior. Sighing in defeat, she took a few steps back and sank down to sit on the edge of her bed. With her hands clasped, resting on her knees, Carol looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"What?" he growled.

"I'm sorry for not talking." She bowed her head for a moment, trying to summon the right words. "It's just…some things are better left unsaid."

Daryl grunted before taking another long pull from the bottle. "Ya mean like what happened to the girls?"

The words stung and Carol had to swallow hard to maintain her composure. When she felt that she could speak, she lifted her chin and stared at him. "I didn't think it would help…to talk about it…I still don't."

"Well," he took another swig and ran a hand through his tangled hair. "Maybe I don't feel like talkin' neither."

She was leaning forward, her legs hanging off the side of the bed as she sat on the edge. "I'm not asking you to talk."

"Naw," he said. "Ya just want me to spend the night drinkin' 'n carryin' on with them ass holes…like that's gonna help." He gnawed his bottom lip before glaring at her again. "It ain't gonna help…_nothin'_ _helps_…." the last words came out in a low growl as he stared down at the glass bottle in his hands.

A heavy silence fell over them as they each struggled with their own dark memories. Carol knew that he was torturing himself…blaming himself for everything that happened to Beth. She didn't know what to say…how to convince him… Realizing that he wasn't going to give in, and that her best course of action would probably be to leave him alone, Carol slid off the bed. She took a moment to press her hands into her lower back, in an attempt to crack her aching spine. Just before she turned to go, she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Daryl…" she said softly.

He looked up, his sharp, blue eyes cutting through the gloom and focusing on her.

"It's not your fault." She said. Carol didn't wait for a response. She turned away and headed back towards the friends that were waiting for her…secretly hoping that the alcohol and good company would distract her for the night.

Her hushed words echoed in Daryl's ears and he felt the familiar pangs of guilt stabbing at his consciousness. It didn't matter what she said…or what anyone said for that matter. The hunter knew that Beth's blood was on his hands. He couldn't stop thinking about the scarlet pool that had formed beneath her head…the way the sticky liquid spread across the linoleum floor. The sound of the gun shot still woke him from his sleep, and he'd be forced to sit, with his head in his hands, panting and muttering curses, until his heart rate slowed.

"_She's wrong_…" he growled softly to himself before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long drink.

"_It's my fault_…"

In another section of the department store, the red-faced survivors were laughing, nearly choking on their wine…

"I just don't see it…" said Rosita, as she leaned against Tara's shoulder.

"I swear…" said Glenn. "My roommates grabbed my clothes while I was in the shower…I ended up in the hallway, locked out of my apartment, in nothing but my birthday suit."

Eugene spoke up from his spot on one of the display beds. "I'd be tempted to laugh If I hadn't found myself in a very similar predicament…one more than one occasion."

"Okay," said Tara, "Moving on…"

The others laughed and sipped their drinks.

"Anybody gonna top that?" Glenn asked, eyeing his companions. "Somebody's gotta have a better story. Come on…most embarrassing moment…."

Carol blushed and started laughing.

"You got something juicy?" Rosita asked, looking up at her friend. Carol was sitting beside Michonne on one of the display beds.

"No," Carol laughed, her eyes closing, "Forget it."

The others exchanged curious glances before urging her to continue. Michonne nudged her. "Come on; how bad can it be? I doubt anyone will remember anyway…"

The survivors chuckled at that.

"Okay," Carol breathed, her cheeks flushed. She brought one hand up to cup her forehead as she tried to maintain her composure. "Don't repeat this…"

"No promises" said Tyreese, a smirk on his mouth.

Carol blew out a breath and tried to focus; the wine was making her warm and her head was beginning to swim. Before she could stop herself, the words were tripping off the end of her tongue. "I've seen Rick naked…."

Michonne about choked. The others were all staring in amazement, their eyes wide and their mouths gaping.

"What?!" Glenn asked, his face cracking into a smile.

Carol's head was in her hands as she dissolved in another fit of laughter.

"When was this?" Sasha asked.

Carol had to fight to catch her breath; she was laughing so hard that it hurt. "Back at the prison.." she finally managed to say. "I went down to the showers…it was late; I thought everyone else was asleep."

"I don't like where this is going…" said Glenn.

Carol took a moment to wipe at her eyes, her shoulders seemed to shake with trapped laughter. "I step into the shower room, thinking that I'm being pretty quiet…but I must've made too much noise because the next thing I know, Rick's out of the shower and he's got his machete raised….and…." she held her head in her hands as more laughter spilled from her. "It was so late…and neither of us expected any company down there…I think we were both in a state of shock and it took a few seconds before each of us realized who the other was…"

"So what the hell did you do?" Tara asked.

Carol shook her head, chuckling. "The only things we could do. We each backed away, slowly, trying not to make eye contact and as soon as I pulled the door open, I took off, running like hell…I was trying so hard not to laugh…I didn't want to wake the whole cell block up."

Michonne smirked at her, "You fell apart, didn't you?"

Carol nodded, wiping at her eyes again. "The second I got to my cell, I doubled over, laughing my ass off into a pillow…Jesus, I laughed so hard I about pissed myself. I'm surprised you all didn't hear me."

They all snickered and shook their heads in disbelief.

"God," Carol sighed. "I swear it was weeks before I could look that man in the eye again."

The laughter gradually died down and the survivors took the opportunity to sip their bottles and pass them around. Michonne handed Carol a bottle and the woman took a tentative sip.

"So…" Rosita said, her eyes trained on Carol's face.

"What?" Carol asked, taking another pull from the bottle.

Rosita smirked. "How was he?"

Carol spat her wine several feet, nearly hitting Glenn. She was laughing, her face flushed with color as she reached up to wipe her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Michonne gave her a pat on the back, trying to get her to calm down. After several deep breaths Carol lifted her chin and stared out at her companions. She still had one hand curled loosely around the neck of the bottle, while the other hand was resting on her thigh. She smirked, shrugging. "I'll put it this way…_Rick_…has nothing to be embarrassed about." Without missing a beat, she brought the bottle to her lips and took a long pull.

The others burst into fits of laughter…tears welling at the corners of their eyes. "Jesus…I didn't need to hear that!" said Glenn as he cupped his aching forehead.

"Oh quit," Carol chided. "We've been living in close quarters so long…I'm surprised we haven't had more incidents."

"No offense, but I'd rather not run into any of you naked…" said Glenn.

"I don't know…" Michonne chuckled. "It wouldn't be that bad…I happen to think we're a pretty decent looking bunch…"

Tara collapsed onto her back laughing, one arm draped across her forehead.

Carol sighed and ran a hand through her hair. There was a silly grin on her face and her lids were growing heavy. "If it were up to me, I'd catch Dar-"

But Michonne didn't let her finish. She quickly curled an arm around Carol, pulling the woman into her side. "I think you've had enough…" said Michonne as she carefully took the wine bottle away from Carol and set it on the floor. Carol was giggling as she leaned against her friend's shoulder.

Fortunately, the others were too drunk to take much notice of Carol's near-admission. The more they laughed, the more light-headed they became. The survivors seemed to simmer down, each of them getting lost in their own, nonsensical conversations. Glenn was kissing his wife's shoulder and stroking her hair while he spoke softly to her, making sure that she was alright. Tyreese and Sasha were engaged in some sort of debate concerning the best way to fight a hangover. Eugene was reclining on one of the display beds, fighting to stay awake…but he was clearly losing the battle. Tara seemed to have passed out after her last laughing fit, and she lay on her back, occasionally mumbling something incoherent. Carol continued to lean heavily against Michonne, and the younger woman felt the need to say something. She rubbed Carol's arm, trying to rouse her. "Hey," she whispered.

Carol blinked, staring up at her friend. "Hm?"

"You need help getting to bed?" Michonne asked.

Carol cleared her throat, shifting on the bed to give her companion some space. "No, I'm fine. Think I just need to walk this off…"

"You sure? I can go with you…" Michonne's hand was resting lightly on Carol's back.

Before Carol could answer, Rosita stood with a grunt. "I'll go with her. I'm feeling a little restless. Think I've been sitting here too long."

Carol gave the woman a tired smile.

Michonne eyed the two of them and was clearly concerned about the idea of her less than sober companions wandering off together. "You two sure you're alright?"

Rosita stretched, yawning. "Yeah; we're good."

Carol chuckled as she eased off the bed. "We're just gonna take a walk. Maybe we'll check in on Rick…see how he's doing." She winked and gave Michonne's arm a pat. All three women burst out laughing. Before Carol turned to leave, Michonne leaned in, whispering to her.

"Maybe you can describe that little run-in you two had in the shower…in more detail. You know…_later_." Michonne couldn't keep a straight face as the words left her lips. She grabbed Carol's hands and the two women snickered. Carol finally pulled away, wiping at her eyes again.

"God…I can't remember the last time I laughed this much…or at all." Carol stared dreamily at the wine bottle that was still sitting on the floor.

Michonne stood, staggering slightly, which only made them giggle more.

"Booze has that affect…" Rosita quipped.

"I'm gonna call it a night." said Michonne. "You two be careful." With that, she turned and headed towards her section of the department store.

"Well…" said Carol, her hands sliding into her back pockets. "Where are we headed?"

Rosita chuckled. "Let's explore."

Carol smiled. The idea of exploring the mall sounded so silly. They'd been there for nearly a week and could probably name every last store if they had to. But Carol's mind was hazy and she enjoyed Rosita's company so she nodded, letting the younger woman lead them out of the department store.

Somehow, the two women managed to climb the steps that lead to the second story of the mall. There'd been some stumbling, and plenty of giggling, but they helped each other reach the top. At first, they'd engaged in some completely legitimate scavenging. They wandered into a small store that sold candles, greeting cards and various trinkets. The candles were important. The others had gathered as many as they could from other stores, but Carol and Rosita felt that the men may have overlooked the fairly feminine shop they'd found themselves in. The space was heavy with smells…cinnamon, vanilla, lavender… The two women giggled as they gathered what they could.

Carol stooped to collect a large candle from the floor…it was in a glass jar and she squinted to read the label. "Macintosh Apple?" she mumbled to herself. A snort followed.

"What?" Rosita asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Carol sighed, shaking her head. "The world ended…do we really need candles that smell like Macintosh apples?" Another chuckle escaped her.

Rosita smirked. "What's the harm? It's not like we have much light….this is a big building." She raised an arm, gesturing outwards to the rest of the mall. "I think we can use as many candles as we can get our hands on. The last thing we need is people tripping over themselves on watch."

Carol hefted the heavy candle in her hand, considering her friend's words. "You planning to take all these back to camp?"

Rosita shook her head. "I was thinking we could leave one in front of all the stores…sorta line the walkways on the first and second stories."

Carol smiled at her friend. "Good thinking. So you're not taking any back with you?"

Rosita sighed, defeated. "Fine. I wanted to take a few; alright?"

Carol chuckled.

"Hey; in case you haven't noticed…there aren't any showers here. I'll take the good smells where I can get them. Besides…" she glanced at a candle that had a pale, purple hue. "Lavender is supposed to help you sleep."

Carol's hazy mind was wandering again. It was true…the survivors weren't able to clean themselves up as well as they might like. They used the bathroom sinks to wash up, and grabbed towels or other cloths to scrub the grime off their skin. Gradually, they were getting clean, but the smell of sweat always seemed to hang in the air around them; they couldn't help it. They worked hard; clearing the mall of corpses, fortifying the entrances…gathering and sorting supplies, looking after the baby… They spent most days covered in at least a thin layer of sweat, but they'd grown accustomed to the smell. Carol found herself thinking of Daryl…his display bed was only feet from her own and his scent had come to be something of a comfort to her. She liked knowing that he was there when she fell asleep. She wondered how he could still manage to smell like the outdoors when they'd been inside for nearly a week. As she sank onto the bed each night and let her heavy lids droop, she'd breathe him in and try to puzzle out everything that made up his scent. There was sweat, a hint of smoke, leather, and something earthy that made her think of grass…or trees. She let if flood her senses each night, and it seemed to be the only thing that helped her get to sleep. The smell was familiar, _safe_… She was so lost in her thoughts that her grip loosened on the candle and the glass jar crashed to the floor with a sharp crack.

"Jesus!" Rosita cried, stumbling back a little.

A small gasp escaped Carol and she took a shaky step back, her eyes going to the floor where bits of broken glass were glittering in the dark. "Shit…" she sighed. "Sorry."

Rosita placed a hand on her own chest as she caught her breath. "God…you okay?" she asked.

Carol chuckled as she reached up to rub the back of her neck. "Yeah; I'm fine…just got distracted that's all."

"Right." said Rosita, her tone doubtful. She studied her friend for a moment and wondered if they should both just call it a night and head back to camp. She was about to suggest that they both turn in when a sudden realization struck. A smile was spreading across the younger woman's face. "You up for a little more exploring?" she asked.

Carol looked up, a lazy smirk on her lips. "Sure. Why not?"

Rosita dropped a few more candles into the plastic bag she held and then motioned for Carol to follow her out of the store. "Come on," she urged. "And try not to bust your ass…I'm not dragging you back down the stairs."

Carol laughed and did her best to follow the younger woman out into the dark walkway. The sun had all but set and the mall seemed so gloomy, _vast_…almost eerie. But the two women were warmed by their wine and weren't bothered by their grim surroundings. "Where are we going?" Carol asked after a minute or two of walking…well, stumbling may have been a more accurate description of what they were doing.

Rosita chuckled. "I told you…we're exploring."

Their footsteps echoed throughout the building and Carol had to focus to avoid tripping. She idly wondered how they would even make it back down the steps to their camp.

_We're going to pass out up here…hopefully Rick and Abraham find us. We'll never hear the end of it if those two have to carry us downstairs…_

The mental image of the two men hauling them down a flight of stairs made Carol giggle and she was just about to share her thoughts with Rosita….but the younger woman suddenly stopped and Carol nearly crashed into her. "Find what you were looking for?" Carol asked, still chuckling.

Rosita nudged her companion and pointed up at the sign above the store entrance. When Carol glanced up, she snorted, shaking her head.

"Come on; let's go." Rosita urged.

Carol ran a hand over her face. "Really? You're serious?" she asked.

Rosita sighed. "I just wanna look around. What's it gonna hurt?"

Carol blew out a breath and rubbed her tired eyes. "Guess I just don't see the point…At least the candles have a practical use…"

Rosita had one hand on her hip as she stared at her friend. "Don't you ever get tired of having to be practical all the time? We have to overthink everything…where we stay, how long it'll take to get there…how much food, how much fuel…how many bullets…Sometimes, I just get tired of it all. Don't you ever just wanna do something for the hell of it?"

Carol let the younger woman's words sink in; she was right. The survivors spent all their time analyzing, _over-thinking_, strategizing…worrying. What Rosita didn't know was that Carol's life had been very similar, even before the world ended. She always had her guard up. She had a violent husband to keep at bay, and she never had a moment's peace. When she wasn't coming up with excuses for her injuries, Carol was doing everything in her power to keep the man away from their daughter. The memories were beginning to darken her mood and she shook her head, dismissing them. Maybe Rosita was right and a little spontaneity would do them both some good. _Still_…Carol couldn't exactly wrap her head around the younger woman's desire to explore this particular store. She knew that Rosita and Abraham were an established couple, and maybe the girl just wanted to do something to please her partner…but the whole thing still seemed ridiculous and unnecessary. Even in her drunken state, Carol had to question Rosita's choice.

"Fine." Rosita sighed. "You can stay out here if you want; I'm going in." With that, she turned on her heel and headed into the store.

Carol groaned softly, one hand cupping her forehead. As she continued to war with herself, she stared up at the black sign with the pink lettering. It was familiar…unmistakable. Before the world turned, Carol had walked past the store hundreds of times, during various shopping trips. She never dared to set foot inside. If Ed had ever caught her wearing anything from there..it would've garnered a beating. He would've made the assumption that she'd been cheating…and Carol never wanted to risk her own well-being for something as silly as an over-priced pair of panties. But now…at the end of the world…Carol realized that none of those concerns were relevant anymore. No one had dominion over her. Finally accepting the fact that no one was going to judge her, or berate her…and that she could make her own choices without fear of repercussion, Carol Peletier straightened her back, squared her shoulders and followed her companion into the store.

Back in the department store, Daryl was still propped on his bed, with only a bottle of liquor for company. The sullen hunter stared out into the gloom with narrowed eyes…Carol's words echoing in his skull.

_It's not your fault…_

"She don't know shit…" he muttered to himself.

Anger and bitterness had been festering inside him all evening. The bourbon hadn't helped. When he first snatched the bottle from the group's stash, he'd held out vain hopes that the alcohol would make him numb…and smother his guilt, if only for a few hours…but it hadn't. Instead, he lay propped on the bed, his aching mind replaying the tragic events that had taken place at the hospital…over and over again… He needed to escape…to get away from those memories…but he didn't know how.

The hunter envied Carol…her ability to cope. She'd been there; she saw what happened to Beth, and yet she'd been able to move on…to function. While he was stupefied, and in shock, she'd grabbed his arm, dragging him down the streets of Atlanta as the group ran for their lives. It was her voice, ringing in his ears….telling him to move. From the time they'd first reached the mall, Carol made herself useful. When she wasn't on watch, or helping look after Judith, she was rationing supplies with Eugene, or scavenging with Carl and Noah. Daryl didn't understand how she could behave so normally after the traumatic events they'd all endured. Carol's strength and willingness to help the others only served to compound the hunter's guilt. He felt weak…useless. He wasn't dealing well with his grief and he didn't even have the outlet of hunting anymore. At the prison…at Gabriel's _church_…he'd taken solace in the fact that he could escape his problems by disappearing into the woods. He could find some semblance of peace, surrounded by trees and grass…soft dirt beneath his boots…and he could take pride in his ability to provide for his companions whenever he came back with a kill. But all of that had been taken from him. He was trapped in this damn building…like an animal in a cage…and he was quickly discovering that captivity didn't suit him.

The more he thought about Carol, the more irritated he became. He wanted to know how she could go on acting like things were fine. He'd been stewing in his own misery and taking pulls from his bottle as he waited for her to come bed down for the night. She usually came to bed around the same time every night, unless she had a watch shift…and she always made a feeble attempt to engage him in conversation before turning in. Daryl had made up his mind that he was going to ask her, point blank, how she was dealing with all the shit they'd been through…but she wasn't back yet. He was restless, his blunt nails clawing at the comforter beneath him and he wasn't sure that he could sit still much longer. The hunter lifted the bottle, taking another long pull before leaning over the side of the bed and setting it down, as carefully as he could, on the floor. With a grunt, he slid off the bed. Daryl had to take a moment to get his bearings. He was slightly dizzy as he blinked at the surrounding darkness. When he felt that he could take a step, without falling, he slowly began heading out into another part of the store.

The hunter was muttering curses under his breath. He'd bumped into more than a few displays on his journey and he was thoroughly aggravated by the time he finally reached the spot where Michonne had arranged her bedroll. He dropped to a crouch beside her and shook the woman's shoulder.

Startled, Michonne sat bolt-upright and shoved the intruder hard. Daryl stumbled back, landing on his ass as more curses tripped off the end of his tongue.

"Fuckin' Christ…" he growled as he tried to right himself.

Michonne was propped on her bedroll, staring hard at the man who'd woken her. "Jesus Daryl…What is it?" she groaned, her mind clouded with sleep and wine.

The hunter was sitting just a few feet from her. "Ya seen Carol? She ain't back yet…"

The frustrated woman sighed, trying to collect her thoughts. "She was with Rosita…think they were gonna take a walk."

Daryl's brows knit together.

_A walk…?_

"They on watch?" he asked.

Michonne shook her head. "No, they're probably scavenging…or they passed out in another store. I'm sure they're fine. Wherever they are, Rick and Abraham will find them. Go to bed Daryl." With that, she closed her eyes and eased back down onto her side.

The hunter wasn't satisfied. He pushed himself up off the floor and began making his way back through the store. Fresh anger was coursing through him at the thought of Carol and Rosita stumbling around the mall, drunk and on their own.

_Dumbasses_….

He wasn't sure what he would do when he found them…but he knew that he needed a whipping post. Daryl was filled with more frustration than he could handle and he needed to unleash it on something…or someone. Carol had always been a safe outlet for his aggression in the; she could bear the brunt of his anger…letting the harsh words roll off her shoulders without so much as flinching. She let him yell, _swear_…and she never held it against him afterwards. The woman seemed content to listen, no matter how out of line he was…and once he ran out of words, his cheeks flushed and his fists trembling…she always stood in front of him, meeting his gaze, and used reason to calm him down. He'd lashed out at her more times than he could remember, but the woman was unbreakable…as far as he could tell. Anger drove him forward as he stepped out into the rest of the mall. He'd made up his mind and if it took him the rest of the night, Daryl Dixon was going to find her and make her listen.

Rosita pulled several candles from her plastic bag and set them on the checkout counter. She fished a lighter from her pocket and focused as she lit the candles, one by one. The store was barely illuminated by the soft glow and Rosita grabbed more candles, setting them on nearby display tables.

Meanwhile, Carol stood with one hand cupping her forehead. "I still can't believe you dragged me in here."

Rosita smirked, lighting another candle. "You're a big girl…you make your own choices. No one _forced_ you to come in here."

Carol sighed, eyeing her surroundings. She had to admit, she'd always been curious about this place. Walking to the nearest display table, she gently lifted a lace thong, holding it up by two fingers. "I just don't get it…" she said softly, almost speaking to herself.

"Hm?" Rosita asked as she bent over another table, and set a candle down.

Carol squinted, trying to make out the numbers on the price tag that hung from the underwear. "What would possess someone to pay fifteen dollars for panties? There's not even enough fabric here to…"

But Rosita just shook her head, chuckling. "You've really never been in here? Not even to pick something out for a special occasion…an anniversary?"

The smile seemed to fade on Carol's face and she set the thong back on the table. "No. Can't say that my husband would've appreciated it. He had a bad temper, and a jealous streak a mile wide. To be honest…" Carol paused, trying to find the right words. "Before the turn…I never would've had the guts to come in here."

Rosita lit another candle before turning to face her friend. "Why?" she asked softly. "It's just hard to imagine you being afraid of anything."

Carol sighed. "I was afraid of _him_. If he ever caught me wearing something like that…." she gestured to the thongs on the table. "He would've beaten me. It didn't take much to set him off."

A crease was forming in Rosita's brow. "But…"

"As far as he was concerned…" Carol continued. "Only whores wore stuff like this…he would've assumed I was cheating…"

Rosita was silent for a moment as she considered her friend's words. "Sounds like he was a real prick." she folded her arms across her chest.

Carol couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her upon hearing the younger woman's blunt statement. She nodded in agreement. "Yes; that would sum it up."

Rosita smiled. "Must be a relief, knowing he's gone."

Carol rubbed the back of her neck. "It is. Maybe this is a horrible thing to say…but I don't think my life actually started until the day he died."

Rosita pushed herself away from the table she was leaning against. She took a step towards Carol, meeting her gaze. "That's the silver lining…" said the younger woman. "Yeah; the world ended…everything might've gone to shit, but we all got a chance to start over. I like to think of it as the slate getting wiped clean. You think anybody had confidence in me before this?" she asked.

Carol managed a weak smile.

"Please…" Rosita snorted. "People would take one look at me and make a judgment call. No one thought I was smart enough, or strong enough to make it on my own… Hell, even _after_ the turn…people assumed I was weak. It wasn't until Abraham…" There was a faint smile on the younger woman's lips. "He was the first person that actually saw something in me. He made me feel useful." When she'd finished speaking, Rosita reached out, placing her hand on Carol's shoulder. "We're not the women we were before."

Carol's smile widened as she stared at her friend. "Guess you're right."

Rosita smirked. "I am."

Carol chuckled and the women eased apart. "Okay…now that that's settled…please explain what any of this has to do with ridiculous, over-priced underwear?"

Rosita shook her head, laughing. "Jesus Carol…quit over thinking it. This is supposed to be fun. Come on; when was the last time you felt sexy?"

Color rushed to Carol's cheeks and she giggled. "Sexy? That's not a word I would use to describe myself…"

"Why not?" The younger woman had her hands on her hips as she waited for an answer.

Carol folded her arms across her chest. "I just….I don't know. I guess it never seemed important. I always just thought of myself as a mother…a wife, a homemaker…not exactly the most exciting roles."

Rosita smiled as she moved to another table and held up a silk g-string. "Well, that's the whole reason stores like this exist…to help women embrace the sides of themselves that they're normally afraid to show."

Carol was temporarily in awe of her friend's wisdom. "Are you sure you're drunk?"

Rosita laughed, tossing the g-string to Carol. "I'm at least tipsy…and I'm right about this store. Look at those." she gestured to the bit of silk that Carol was now clutching to her chest.

Carol swallowed hard, studying the skimpy piece of fabric.

"I want you to wrap your head around the fact that any woman can wear those. So what if you're a mom, and your husband was an asshole? It doesn't mean you can't feel sexy from time to time. There's absolutely nothing wrong with doing something for yourself." said Rosita.

Carol ran her fingers over the silk as he brows knit together. "I just don't think this is me…I mean really? This barely even qualifies as underwear…I don't think that having a piece of silk…"

"Just stop!" Rosita laughed. "You're reading way too much into this. I don't accept the fact that the one-woman army, who took down Terminus, is afraid of trying on a thong."

Carol held up the g-string, almost shaking the damn thing in an effort to get her point across. "This is about 1/3 of a thong!" she laughed.

"God!" Rosita ran her hands over her face in exasperation. "Fine, forget the g-string…but I really think you should try something on…just to see how it feels. A bra, a teddy…anything. Just think about how much it would piss your husband off."

Carol chuckled at that. "Fine. But I would like to go on record saying that I think this is a poor use of our free time."

"Hey," Rosita argued. "There are very practical reasons for being in here…"

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Carol asked.

"We need underwear." said Rosita, her expression completely serious.

Carol burst out laughing. "If you can even call these scraps of fabric underwear…"

"I can and I did. Now you can keep stalling if you want, but I'm gonna look around." With that, Rosita turned away heading further into the store. She took the bag of candles with her and set one down at each of the display tables, lighting her way.

Carol was out of her depth. She decided she couldn't just stand there waiting, so she cautiously approached one of the larger tables and scanned the bras and panties that were scattered on top. After a bit of fumbling, she noticed that the table featured dozens of drawers. Carol squinted through the gloom and saw that each drawer was labeled with a specific size. She sought out her own and pulled the drawer out, studying the contents. The whole thing still seemed absurd to her, but she knew she'd never make it back down the steps on her own…she was at Rosita's mercy. "When in Rome.." she mumbled to herself as she selected a bra and lifted it from the open drawer. The straps were thin and the black cups were covered in delicate lace. She felt the insides of the cups and noticed there was a hint of cushion, or padding of some sort.

_A push-up bra…._

This was too much for Carol and she nearly put the thing back, but something stopped her. She thought back to all the time she'd spent hiding her body. Before the turn, she was constantly afraid of someone seeing her bruises. She hid beneath long sleeves, pants and scarves. Even in the warm months, she kept herself covered…never even daring to put on a swimsuit or don a pair of shorts. Rosita's words were echoing in her ears…

_There's nothing wrong with doing something for yourself._

Maybe she'd wasted too much time hiding. She held the bra up to her chest, trying to determine whether or not it was worth trying on. Even in the gloom of the store, Carol felt herself blush. She tried to reason with herself.

_You're making this harder than it has to be…we're just talking about trying on a bra. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not as if anyone is going to see you…and even if they did, it doesn't matter. You need bras either way…_

It was true. The one she was wearing had all but fallen apart. The underwire was stabbing at her and the fabric had more than a few holes in it. Sighing, she held onto the bra and continued searching the display table. It was difficult to see, with the only light coming from the weak flame of the candle, but she eventually found a pair of panties that seemed to match the bra. The black, lace thong offered a bit more coverage than the g-string Rosita had shown her, but it was still more revealing than anything Carol had ever worn. Anxious to get this whole misadventure over with, she gathered her items and tried to catch up with Rosita. "Where'd you go?" she called out.

Moments later, the younger woman emerged from the back of the store. "The dressing rooms are back here." she said.

Carol followed the sound of her friend's voice and stopped short when she saw Rosita standing before her in a violet colored, lace bra. "What do you think?" she asked Carol. "Too much?"

Carol smiled at her. "You look great. See…you're young enough to get away with something like that. I shouldn't even be in here…"

Rosita sighed. "Would you stop? You can wear whatever you want. There's no age limit."

Carol rolled her eyes before heading towards one of the dressing room stalls.

"Here." Rosita called after her. She caught up with Carol, handing her a small candle and a lighter. "So you can see how it looks in the dressing room." she explained.

"What a treat." Carol quipped.

Rosita sighed again, her arms folding across her chest.

"Alright…fine." Carol chuckled as she stepped into the stall and set the candle down to light it. "I'll be right out." With that, she gently shut the door. She could hear Rosita's footsteps as the younger woman walked back to her own stall.

Once Carol was alone, she slowly began to shed her layers of clothing. She leaned back, letting one of the walls take her weight as she fumbled with her zipper. She gripped her waistband and pushed the cargo pants down, past her hips. After a brief struggle, during which she nearly lost her balance, Carol managed to pull the pants off the ends of her feet. She stared down at the plain, cotton briefs she'd always worn and took a deep breath before sliding them down her legs. Piece by piece, her clothes hit the floor…the light jacket she rarely took off, her long sleeve shirt, the dingy bra… Once she pulled the lace thong up her legs and fastened the clasp on the bra…she found that she was afraid to face the mirror. The lighting was poor…just a weak flame on a small candle, but she was still scared. Her entire life…she'd convinced herself that there was nothing worth seeing under her clothes. But she supposed she couldn't back out now. Carol was gradually adjusting to the feeling of wearing a thong and she took a moment to adjust the straps of the bra. She could feel the difference in the support…and the way that the bit of cushion in the cups lifted her breasts. It felt good…not necessarily comfortable, but there was something empowering about it. Summoning her courage, she finally made herself turn and face her reflection.

Carol's lips parted in disbelief, and she stood frozen, unable to accept the fact that the woman in the mirror was her… Even in the gloom, she could see the way her body had changed since the world turned. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her. The survivors lead very physically demanding lives, and the constant running and fighting left her with arms and legs that were toned…her stomach was flat, with a hint of definition and her waist was small. The black lace of the thong was a stark contrast to her pale skin and she saw the way the panties sat low on her slight hips. The way the bra lifted her breasts…it almost made them seem fuller, and Carol thought she looked younger overall. Her mussed hair was still growing out and she reached up, running her fingers through it in a feeble attempt to smooth it. When she lifted her arms, she saw the way her breasts rose and the tiniest hint of a smile appeared on her lips. For the first time…in a long time…or maybe even for the first time in her entire life, Carol found that she approved of the person staring back at her from the mirror.

"How's it going in there?" Rosita called out.

Carol was still in awe of her reflection. "It's…It's good…" she managed to say. "Think I might actually hang onto these…" she mused.

Rosita stepped out of her stall and tapped on Carol's door. "Let me see. I showed you mine…"

"Fine…" Carol answered, feeling slightly giddy. With a shaking hand, she slowly pulled the door open and stepped out into the small hallway.

Rosita grinned at her. "You look amazing. I knew you were hiding a body under all those clothes. You've gotta keep them."

Carol was blushing horribly; she'd never felt so exposed in her life…but the wine was making her brave…or reckless, she couldn't decide which. "I think the thong's gonna take a little getting used to."

Rosita waved her hand, dismissing the statement. "Please…after a while, you'll forget you even have it on. Wanna see what else we can find?"

Carol chuckled, "Sure." She stepped back into her stall and worked on pulling her pants back on. She could hear Rosita wandering back out into the store and she marveled at the fact that the younger woman hadn't even bothered to put her shirt back on. Carol chuckled again.

_Wonder why she feels so comfortable prancing around in pants and a violet bra…it's gotta be the wine…._

Carol managed to shimmy back into her pants and was reaching for her shirt when she heard a sharp scream. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through her frame, shocking her heart. There was no time to think; she yanked the door to her stall open and ran toward the source of the sound. Blood was rushing in her ears and she realized she didn't have a weapon on her, but it didn't matter. She had to help Rosita…so she stumbled through the store, preparing herself for whatever was coming. She came to a skidding halt and had to brace her hands on one of the display tables when she saw two figures silhouetted in the gloom near the checkout counter. Carol worked to catch her breath as she stared at the familiar faces.

Daryl wandered through the mall for several minutes before the sound of giggling reached his ears. He glanced up at the stairs that lead to the second story and decided to follow the sound. When he reached the top step, he scanned left, then right and noticed a faint glow coming from one of the stores. Curiosity got the best of him and he made his way toward the flickering light. As he neared his destination, the giggling seemed to get louder. His footsteps slowed to a stop when he reached the storefront and he stared up at the black sign with the big, pink letters. He kept a low growl locked in his chest. If there was anyone on earth that felt more uncomfortable in a lingerie store than Carol…it was Daryl. He ran a broad hand through his hair and considered abandoning his search…but the sound of carefree laughter was getting under his skin.

_That woman ain't got a goddamn right to be laughin' about anything…_

With his fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his eyes narrowed to mean slits, he pushed past his own foolish fears and stepped into the store. He took note of the candles that seemed to be scattered all around.

_That's what they been up here doin'? Lightin' damn candles and shoppin' for underwear?_

The thought angered him. His eyes cut through the darkness, searching for movement but then another sound caught his attention. He could make out their voices now… Carol's and Rosita's…they were talking. He heard a door shut, followed by more giggling, and then there were footsteps… The hunter lingered near the checkout counter, and thought about all the things he was going to say to Carol when her happy ass finished goofing off. It never even occurred to him, in his drunken state…that following two women, who were also drunk, into a lingerie store, might have negative consequences. He was too absorbed in his own petty frustrations to consider how Carol and Rosita might react to an invasion of their privacy. So he scuffed his boot on the floor and rapped his knuckles on the checkout counter, waiting.

Rosita had a smile on her face as she hurried back to the display tables. She was proud of Carol for stepping out of her comfort zone and was eager to grab more things for her friend to try on before the woman lost her nerve and changed her mind. She nearly lost her footing as she came around a corner in an attempt to get to the front of the store. When she regained her balance and looked up, a scream burst from her lips and the young woman's hands flew to her chest as she did her best to cover herself. "_What the hell are you doing here_?!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Daryl was at a loss. He certainly wasn't expecting Rosita to come around that corner in nothing put pants and a bra. He cursed, turning away, color rushing to his cheeks. With his eyes trained on the ground, the hunter bit out the only words he could summon. "I was lookin' for Carol."

"Jesus Christ Daryl!" She spat at him.

Before either of them could say anything else, Carol came skidding to halt near one of the display tables. "What's going…." but the words died in Carol's throat when she saw the intruder.

Daryl couldn't help it; he wasn't thinking. He looked up when he heard her voice and caught a fleeting glimpse of the black bra she was wearing. The two were in shock as they stared at one another, and it took Carol a moment to realize that Daryl was getting an unobstructed view of her chest. Mastering herself, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. She waited a few seconds for her breathing to slow. When the blood stopped rushing in her ears, she made herself say something. Someone had to break the incredibly uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the three of them. "You wanna tell me what it is you're doing here?" she asked, a definite edge to her voice.

Daryl stared at the floor; he was afraid to look anywhere else. "Could ask ya the same thing…" he growled.

Both women grew visibly upon hearing the hunter's statement. "Not that it's any of your business…but me and Rosita felt like blowing off some steam." said Carol, her head cocked to one side as she continued to glare at him. "Now what's _your_ excuse?"

"I was lookin' for ya…" he muttered.

"Why?" Carol asked, genuinely confused.

"Got some shit on my mind…" he snapped, finally lifting his chin and meeting her gaze.

"Daryl…" Carol sighed, "I'm sure whatever it is…it can wait until tomorrow. Would you mind getting out of here so we can get dressed?"

The hunter's temper was getting the best of him…and the bourbon was clouding his judgment. He knew he should leave the two women alone and stumble back to his bed to sleep off the effects of the liquor, but he was agitated and didn't plan on leaving the store with his tail tucked between his legs…just because Carol and Rosita yelled at him. So instead of retreating, he took a step in Carol's direction, his eyes trained on her face.

Rosita couldn't believe that way the hunter was acting. "Daryl…get the hell out of here!" she yelled.

He glanced at her, his upper lip curling back in anger. "This don't concern _you_…" he snarled.

The young woman was taken aback by the hostility in his voice and began to grow concerned for her friend. "Carol…" she pleaded, but the other woman held up one hand, warding off any additional comments.

"It's fine Rosita. You should grab your clothes and go. I think Daryl and I need to have a chat."

The younger woman's eyes were wide with fear. "But…"

"It's fine." Carol repeated. "I promise. His bark is worse than his bite. Go on."

Daryl bristled at the statement.

Rosita didn't know what to do. She glanced nervously from Daryl to Carol. She knew that the two had been part of the same group for a long time, and that they could handle one another, but she was still afraid of leaving Carol with the brooding hunter.

"Rosita…" said Carol, as she tried to remain relatively level-headed. "We'll be alright here. You should get dressed."

Unsure of what else to say, the younger woman moved away from her companions and hurried to the back of the store to retrieve her shirt. Daryl and Carol were left staring at one another, each of them silently daring the other to say something. They kept their eyes locked on one another, even when Rosita reemerged from the fitting room, fully clothed. She paused, just feet away from Carol, and tried to speak, but Carol just waved a hand, urging the younger woman to leave. As Rosita walked quickly out of the store, Carol called after her. "Ignore any yelling you might hear."

Daryl and Carol waited for the sound of the girls' footsteps to fade before either of them said anything. "So…" said Carol, her arms still folded across her chest. "What's so important that you couldn't wait until tomorrow?" She slowly began walking around the circular display table that sat between her and the hunter.

Daryl mimicked her actions, circling the same table, his eyes never leaving hers. "Wanted to talk to ya.."

Carol snorted. "You _never_ wanna talk…"

The hunter clenched his fists just a little tighter as the two of them continued to walk around the table, eyeing one another. "I do _now_. 'N I ain't goin' nowhere neither…not till your happy ass hears me out."

Carol snorted again. "You're drunk."

Daryl glared at her. "And you ain't?"

"All the more reason to save this discussion for another time." she said.

But Daryl shook his head.

She sighed. "Well go ahead then; say what you came here to say…unless you wanna keep going in circles." The irony of the statement made her smirk and she realized that the wine really had gone to her head.

The two stopped suddenly and Daryl leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "I wanna know how the hell you're doin' it…"

Carol's brows knit together as she studied him. "Doing what?"

The hunter growled out of frustration. "Goin' on…actin' like everything's fine when it ain't."

Carol's arms were still folded across her chest. "I'm not _acting_." she hissed. "I know damn well things aren't fine…they haven't been for a while. But I don't think that sitting around and moping is going to help…"

Daryl could feel his temperature rising as rage bubbled inside him. He pushed away from the table and walked around it until he was standing in front of her. "_Mopin'_….that what you think I'm doin'?" He asked, the words coming out in rough growls. "Just sittin' on my ass _mopin'_?"

Carol could feel the hostility rolling off of him, like body heat, but he didn't scare her. She'd weathered his storms more times than she could count and she knew that he was just looking for an outlet. Normally, she would let him rage without offering up a single word of opposition, but the wine had loosened her lips. "I think you're wasting time agonizing over something you can't change…" she said, with as much conviction as she could muster.

"_Wastin' time_?" he echoed bitterly, moving even closer to her.

She stood her ground but she could feel goose bumps breaking out on her skin. "Convince me that I'm wrong." she said, licking her lips.

Daryl was dumbfounded. She never argued with him…He hadn't expected her to challenge him. "You think ya got me figured out then…that it?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Carol met his gaze. "I told you what I think…"

"You don't know _shit_…" he growled, losing himself in a moment of anger and shoving her in the shoulder.

Carol couldn't believe his audacity. She'd made a silent vow to herself, the instant she buried the axe in her husband's skull, that she would never allow another man to put his hands on her in anger. When Daryl pushed her, the action seemed to wake something inside Carol and she reacted in kind, shoving him back with an aggression neither of them knew she possessed. "_Don't touch me_…" she breathed, her narrowed eyes cutting through the dark as she stared at him. Her chest rose and fell and she swallowed hard, waiting for him to say something.

Daryl was stunned…he wasn't sure he recognized the woman in front of him. Her eyes were burning blue, almost glowing in the dark and she was staring at him with an intensity that he could almost feel against his skin. The rational part of his brain, which had all but ceased to function the moment he started drinking bourbon, knew that he'd crossed a line. Carol had a violent past, and he should never have touched her. But something in her tone and her stance made him think that she was challenging him. It had become a battle of wills and neither of them wanted to be the first to leave the store. Daryl's breathing had picked up and he wasn't going to let her win. "Think ya had too much…" he said, moving towards her again.

"It's none of your damn business how much I had…" she snapped, taking a step back.

The glow from the candles was illuminating the two survivors, making them both appear sinister in the gloomy store. "Ya think _I'm_ wastin' time?" he growled, his voice husky. "While you're runnin' around in your goddamn _underwear_?" He took another purposeful step in her direction and she backed away.

Carol swallowed hard again. "Like I _said_…" she kept her eyes on his. "We just came up here to blow off some steam…we weren't expecting _company_." She was slowly retreating, trying not to stumble.

The hunter continued to advance, undaunted by her anger. "Ya'll ain't got no business wanderin' 'round this place at night…_alone_. Ain't even got a weapon on ya." His eyes flicked to her waist where her knife usually hung.

Carol faltered when she felt her back hit a wall. Her mouth was going dry as she watched him get closer. Panicking, she lashed out in an attempt to shove him away but he caught her wrists and gripped them hard making her gasp. Daryl wasn't entirely sure of what was taking place but he couldn't let her push him again…she'd pushed him far enough. When he saw her arms move, he grabbed her pale wrists, stopping her. They were both breathing hard as he moved into her space and pinned her arms to the wall above her head. The action was so sudden…so unexpected, and Carol closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to process all the sensations that were battling for her attention. A strange thrill was coursing through her and she nearly gave in, submitting to him…but she mastered herself and began to fight again. She was struggling to free herself from his grip but she couldn't find the words to tell him to let go.

The hunter's eyes were fixed on hers as he watched her struggle. There was something fascinating about knowing that she couldn't get away. She was resisting, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tried to break free. Now that he was so close to her, Daryl could smell her hair…her _skin_. The scent was making his mind hazy and he found himself staring at her chest. With the faint, orange light from the candle, the hunter could see the soft curves of her breasts and the shadowed dip in her cleavage. The black bra seemed startlingly dark against her skin and the straps were so thin… When he pinned her slender arms above her head, the action lifted her breasts and he was suddenly fascinated…watching them rise and fall with every breath she took. Daryl could feel his mouth going dry as he stared.

Carol wasn't sure what had come over him, but she felt his grip loosen just slightly and she seized the opportunity to pull her arms free. She didn't give him time to think about it as she scrambled to get away. The hunter's trance was broken the instant she moved. Pivoting on his heel he lunged after her, his arms reaching out, but missing her by inches. He growled at the miss, unsure of why she was fleeing or why he was chasing her. But the space was small and she stumbled in her haste. When their eyes met again, she was leaning against one of the tables, her hands gripping it nervously. He held her gaze and moved towards her. As he stared at the woman he'd known for so long, Daryl couldn't help but feel that he was seeing her for the first time. The liquor warming his blood, and the fact that she was half-dressed, seemed to complicate everything. He couldn't make himself leave the store. His eyes roamed Carol's frame, from her tight, pale stomach, to the black bra that held her breasts. As he continued to stare, he was dimly aware of a change taking place in his body.

Carol couldn't begin to describe the feeling of seeing him come towards her. He was intensely focused on her…his face baring the same expression he wore when he hunted…and it was unnerving. Carol knew that if she tried, she could get away. She was fast, and he was probably too drunk to chase her very far, but something was keeping her rooted to the spot. She was anxious and didn't know what would happen when he reached her. She was at once frightened and intrigued. So she clutched at the edge of the table and waited.

When he was finally standing in front of her, he cleared his throat and made himself speak. "_How are ya doin' it_?" he asked, his voice like gravel…his eyes drinking her in.

"Doing what?" she asked, swallowing hard.

He leaned in, bracing his hands on the table, on either side of her body…trapping her all over again. "_Copin'_." he growled softly.

She seemed to notice, for the first time, how close he was. She studied his face, the features that were so familiar to her…his _mouth_, the line of his jaw, the shocks of dark hair that hung in his eyes… "I…" she started to speak but couldn't finish the thought. Hoping to clear her head, Carol shifted so that she was sitting on the edge of the round table, her eyes now level with his as they stared at each other. "_I've been trying to keep myself distracted_…" she whispered.

Daryl liked the way those hushed words sounded and he leaned in closer, his eyes on her mouth. "_How_?" he asked.

Carol's heart was beating furiously and her head was swimming. They were openly staring at one another, and a strange heat was building between them. Their bodies were so close but suddenly, Carol wanted to be closer. Before either of them could overthink the action, Carol's legs parted slightly and she reached for Daryl's shirt, clutching it tightly in her fist. Daryl growled, dipping his head to bite the tender skin at the base of her neck. She used her grip on his shirt to pull him closer, and when she opened her legs, he moved to stand between them. His strong hands went to her hips. While he continued to assault her neck, Carol scooted closer to the edge of the table, wanting her body to be flush with his. Her eyes were closed as she savored the feeling of his mouth on her neck and she was clawing desperately at the front of his shirt. Soft groans escaped them both as they began to lose themselves. Daryl bit down on her shoulder, making her hips buck. Carol's eyes flew open when she felt his erection pressing against her core. A need she never knew she had was suddenly raging inside her and she couldn't form the words to tell him. Hungry for contact and pressure, Carol reached for his hair and pulled the hunter's mouth to hers.

He let her lead him, his mouth opening for her as she slipped her tongue under his. The feeling of kissing her was maddening. Her lips were so soft, pliant…and her mouth was so wet. She tasted like wine and he never wanted her to stop. His own insecurities seemed to disappear as her tongue massaged his.

Without realizing it, Carol had lifted her legs…winding them around his waist to keep their bodies pressed together. She could feel his need, straining beneath his clothes, and it was making her core hurt. She wanted more. While he was distracted by her mouth, Carol used her nimble fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt. He trembled slightly when he felt her fingertips brush the bare skin of his stomach, but he had no intentions of stopping her. Instead, he focused on the sheer pleasure she was bringing him. Her hips continued to rock weakly against him and she sucked at his tongue with an intensity that was almost painful. He marveled at the fact that she could do all these things and still find a way to unbutton his shirt. When she pushed the last button through the hole, she released his mouth and they both gasped for air. Their eyes locked as she moved to push the vest off his shoulders. He helped her, shrugging off the layers, and then ridding himself of the battered shirt. She smirked when she heard the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. He smirked back at her, his hands going to the clasp of her bra as he worked to unfasten it. "_Wait_…" she breathed, licking her lips and tasting him there.

He stared at Carol, his chest rising and falling in time with hers.

"_Maybe we shouldn't_…" she whispered, her hips still grinding against him…and her hands splaying on his chest.

Daryl's head was cocked to the side as he studied her. The hunter found the statement amusing and continued to work on her clasp. When he felt the ends spring apart, he slid the bra down her arms and it joined his clothes on the floor. Without waiting for permission, he placed his large hands on her breasts, squeezing slightly. The reaction was instantaneous as Carol rocked her hips and arched her back into his touch…her nails clawing at his chest. "_God_…" she groaned, her eyes closing.

Daryl nipped at her neck again. "_Thought ya said we shouldn't_…" he teased, his hands gently massaging her breasts. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and enjoyed the feeling of him touching her.

"I _just_…" she could hardly breathe when his thumbs brushed her nipples. "I thought one of us should say it…just so it's on record…"

He smirked against the side of her neck. "That right?" he asked, squeezing her just a little harder.

She moaned, her legs tightening around his waist. "I _mean_…this is…we're _drunk_…it's…"

Daryl bucked against her and tugged weakly at her nipples. "Ain't too drunk to do it _right_." he growled into her shoulder.

Carol shivered when she felt those husky words hit her skin. As his hands continued to explore her chest, her core was growing slick. She quickly realized that pushing her hips into his wasn't going to be enough. She was nearly whining as she unlocked her legs and slid off the table, standing in front of him. Daryl took a shaky step back, giving her room. "Whatcha doin'? he asked, a smirk still on his mouth.

She stared at the trail of dark hair below his navel and found that she wanted to trace it with her tongue. But then her eyes went back to his face as she watched him watching her. With the dark, tangled hair plastered to his brow, and his blue eyes fixed on her, she tried to recall if he'd always been that sexy. Before she could lose herself in hazy thoughts, Carol's hands went to the button on her pants. Her fingers were shaking and her mouth had gone dry, but she needed to keep going. There was no time to stop and process the fact that they'd kissed…that just seconds ago his chapped lips had been pressed against hers and they'd tasted each other…his hands had been on her body…

_Daryl…_

It was all too much, too soon. She didn't even know how they'd wound up like this…half dressed and panting in a lingerie store. She supposed the alcohol was largely to blame…they would never behave like this otherwise, at least Carol _thought_ they wouldn't…. Not the two of _them_. Carol was never reckless. She planned, she _analyzed_… She was always considering every angle and calculating possible outcomes. She kept her eyes open and her weapons close, never allowing anyone or anything to overtake her. Despite all the instincts that had kept her safe and alive since the world turned, Carol found herself getting lost…tangled up in something she couldn't name…but it was _real_, at least it _felt_ real…and for the moment, it was all that mattered. There was warm blood rushing beneath her skin, making her feel feverish, and the only thing that might help was the man standing in front of her. Carol needed him…she didn't know why… She wanted to feel his sweat on her fingertips and clutch his hair in her fists. There was something alarming about suddenly seeing sexual potential in someone who'd been a friend, teammate, and guardian for so long…but she didn't care. For once in her miserable life, Carol wasn't going to waste time over thinking and worrying…they were healthy, unattached, consenting adults with no one to answer to… They had a chance to experience actual release and Carol intended to seize the opportunity. Consequences were unimportant, for the time being, and, she was finally going to let go…she would take him, collide with him, and reveal a side of herself that she'd always kept hidden. With her chest rising and falling, and her heart pounding mercilessly against her ribs, Carol tugged at the zipper and pushed her pants down her hips.

Daryl's mind was reeling as he watched her. He didn't know what was happening, or what had come over the two of them, but it was too late to turn back. He supposed that he was still in some sort of shock, after kissing her. Carol had become so strong…she was a capable fighter, and fiercely independent. It was difficult for the hunter to accept that beneath her hard edges, Carol was still a woman with basic needs. The fact that he would be the one satisfying her needs, or attempting to, was even harder to process… It wasn't as if they didn't have a connection. They'd grown close since their first meeting at the quarry; they trusted one another…which wasn't something that Daryl took lightly. But _this_? The hunter couldn't even recall the last time he'd let himself think about sex. It didn't seem important, after the turn, and he'd done just fine without it. What mattered was staying alive, waking up safe and in one piece each morning… But as he felt the blood pouring into the lower half of his body, he couldn't deny the high it was giving him… The bourbon was coursing through his veins, bolstering his confidence and convincing him that he could have her. He watched, through dreamy eyes, as she pushed the pants down her legs and stepped out of them. In his daze, Daryl couldn't help but marvel at the fact that his friend seemed to have disappeared, leaving an entirely different woman in her place. The person standing before him now…in nothing more than a pair of black panties, surely couldn't be the same woman who'd helped the group escape Terminus… The hunter stood dumbfounded, his mind struggling with that concept.

Once Carol rid herself of the pants, she felt terribly exposed. She hugged herself, her slender arms folding across her bare chest, in a feeble attempt to conceal what she'd already shown him. The thought struck her as silly and she smirked to herself. She was waiting for him to do something…to _say_ something…but he seemed frozen in place. His eyes were roaming from her feet, all the way up her body until their gazes met. He swallowed hard, but still wouldn't move. Carol glanced at the undeniable evidence of his arousal, visible below his waist, and realized that she needed to help him.

_He wants to…he's just lost…_

Taking the initiative, Carol moved towards him. She could feel her nerves building with each step, but she had to keep going. When she stood in front of him, Carol kept her eyes on his, silently asking permission before her hands moved to his waistband. He looked drugged as he stared at her, his lids heavy. She'd had a plan when she first moved towards him…she was going to get his clothes off…it should've been simple…but with his body so close to hers, and his scent clouding her judgment, she seemed to forget who she was…_where_ she was… They were lost in a haze of lust and liquor, and they needed a moment to drink each other in. Slowly, carefully, Carol placed her hands on his chest. He tensed for a moment, but then reached for her wrists, gently holding her in place. They both fought to control their breathing as Carol leaned in, placing a soft kiss to his collar bone. The reaction was automatic as Daryl ducked his head, nuzzling the side of her face. Carol smiled at the feeling of his scruff against her skin. She could hear him inhale as he pulled the scent of her hair into his lungs and before she knew what she was doing, she bit down, her teeth catching his collar bone and applying a hint of pressure. The sensation seemed to spark something in Daryl and he grunted, tugging at one of her wrists…pulling her down and guiding her until she was cupping his manhood. A small gasp escaped her when she felt the hardness straining beneath his pants. Daryl kept a growl locked behind his lips as he hid in the crook of her neck. After the initial shock wore off, Carol didn't need much urging. She gave him a gentle squeeze and started running her hand up and down the fabric, following the outline of his erection. She could feel him panting into her shoulder as she increased her pace, rubbing him harder, and faster. His hips began bucking weakly into her hand and Carol sensed that she needed to stop. She ran her palm along his length one last time, making him shiver, and then eased their bodies apart just slightly. Feeling strangely playful, she glanced at his now larger erection before staring up into his eyes. Daryl's hands went to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh, while her hands slid back up to his chest. His tongue darted out over his chapped lips and Carol leaned in kissing him. He groaned into her mouth, squeezing her breasts harder. His hips continued to buck as his body sought the release he knew she could give him. When they broke apart she was smirking at him. "_Maybe we shouldn't_…" she whispered.

For half a heartbeat, the hunter felt his blood run cold. His lips parted in disbelief and a crease was forming in his brow. In desperation, he searched the recesses of his cluttered mind for an excuse…a _reason_…anything that might convince her to keep going. But it was no use…he was too far gone to try and argue with her, all the blood had rushed to his groin. His fingers were curling, clutching the tender flesh as if she might be torn away from him at any moment.

Carol couldn't maintain the rouse any longer. The look of absolute fear and disappointment on his face broke her resolve. She kissed him quickly on the lips and then chuckled. Her actions only added to Daryl's confusion. "_I was just joking_…" she whispered, laughing lightly. "I have no intention of stop…." but he didn't let her finish. He was half-crazed with want and he needed to make her understand. With his narrowed eyes trained on her face, he began moving, forcing her to walk backwards until the backs of her legs hit the table she'd been leaning on moments ago. But the hunter didn't stop. He placed a broad hand on the center of her chest and pushed her roughly onto her back. Carol gasped and then felt him gripping her hips. He made sure her legs were parted and he stood between them as he pulled her body towards the edge of the table. When her core was finally pressed against his erection, he groaned. Carol had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. His grip on her legs was so strong and the way he forced her onto her back made her want to give into him. Their eyes met as she stared up at him…her captor. He was looking back at her with a hunger that was almost frightening. She arched her back, causing her pelvis to brush his. He snarled, leaning over her and she quickly locked her legs around him. His body came down on hers and he kissed her hard, his hips bucking against her core. Carol worried that the table might give out beneath them, but there was nothing she could do…He was standing between her legs, gripping her hips, while the rest of his body loomed over her. Their kisses weren't sweet, or chaste…they wanted to consume one another. He forced his tongue into her mouth and she sucked it, feeling his hips jerk in response. They explored each other, tasting and feeling as much as they could. Lips were caught between teeth, and tongues slid past one another as the two survivors lost themselves. He was bringing her such pleasure, with his mouth alone, that Carol wondered if she could even handle anything else. She loved the feeling of his scruff brushing her skin, the long, tangled locks of hair that hung around his face, the smell of sweat, smoke and worn leather that was surrounding her…the way he bit at her lips, tugging the tender flesh, making it swell… All the while, his hips were bucking into hers as his need grew stronger. Carol raked her nails down his back, making him snarl again, and that was when she realized that she needed more. Everything he did…every sound he made seemed to bring her body to life and he was stirring something inside her…some primal side of herself that she'd never revealed to anyone. It was as if she'd finally woken from some deep sleep, only to find herself filled with a crippling desire for carnal pleasure. Succumbing to her own selfish needs, Carol pushed against his chest and sat up suddenly.

Daryl reluctantly eased back, letting her breathe. Panting, and sweating, they eyed one another through the dark. "_Why'd ya stop_?" the hunter managed to ask, his chest heaving.

Carol had one hand resting on his slick chest while the other was gripping his neck…her legs were still wrapped around him and she could feel his hard member through his pants. "_I want it_…" she breathed. "_But not like this_…"

Daryl didn't understand. It was difficult to form rational thoughts with a nearly naked woman pressed up against him. But he sensed she wasn't teasing this time…there was an edge to her voice and an urgency in her hushed tone.

With a grunt, Carol pushed him away and eased her legs down. The hunter took a shaky step back and waited, his heart hammering in his chest. She moved carefully, sliding off the table. As she stood in front of him, on legs that were surprisingly weak, Carol met his gaze. She wondered if he could see what she was thinking. Knowing that she needed to show him, and that there could be no more waiting, she let her eyes linger on his for half a second longer before stepping past him.

He watched her closely and had to fight to keep from reaching out and grabbing her as she walked past him…but he waited her out. She moved until she'd reached another round display table. With her back to him, Carol slowly leaned over the table. With the front half of her body supported by her elbows, she turned, glancing at him over her shoulder. "_Like this_." she said, her voice hushed and thick with lust. She bit her bottom lip, holding it between her teeth as she waited for him to act.

It was in that moment, as he watched her slender frame bending over that table and heard those whispered words leave her lips, that Daryl had to question everything. He didn't know if any of it was real…how could it be? He didn't understand how this woman could possibly be the same person he'd fought alongside of for the last two years. But when he saw the way she was biting her lip, he realized the answers to those questions didn't matter. All that mattered was the way she was looking at him…and the skin she had on display for him. His eyes roamed from her face, down her spine, and finally to her panties…but they _weren't_ panties… She was wearing a thong. Daryl's lips parted and he felt moisture beading at the tip of his cock. He hadn't noticed it before…he'd been distracted by her soft breasts and her sweet, wet mouth…but _now, _he couldn't stop staring at it. The lace was so dark against her pale skin and he couldn't quite handle the way the fabric revealed so much of her ass. She wasn't leaving much to the imagination, and he didn't want her to.

_Fuckin' christ…_

It took several seconds before he realized what was happening. She was waiting on him. She told him what she wanted…_how_ she wanted it, and now she was waiting for him. Feeling his mouth go dry at the thought, he slowly began walking towards her. She was smirking at him, over her shoulder and she shuddered when he reached out, hesitantly placing his hands on her hips. He was working to control his breathing as his hands slid up, along her sides, and then moved back down to her waist. His touch was light, cautious, and he left a trail of goose bumps in his wake. A soft groan escaped her and Daryl couldn't help himself; he bucked against her ass, his grip tightening on her body as he held her in place. "_Fuck_…" he breathed.

Carol felt herself grow wet the instant he pushed himself against her body. She couldn't wait anymore. She pushed back, feeling his erection pressed to her ass. They both groaned and Carol reached back in a clumsy attempt to grab hold of the thong and slide it down, but Daryl caught her wrist, stopping her. He leaned over her and growled softly into her ear. "_Leave it on_." She swallowed hard and managed a weak nod as more wetness hit her core.

Daryl didn't want to release her hips, but he knew that he needed to move forward. With as much self control as he could muster, he took a step back, and reached for his belt. His fingers were sweaty and shaking; he fumbled with the buckle for several seconds before he was able to unfasten it and yank the worn leather through his belt loops. When Carol heard the clang of metal hitting the floor, she groaned again. Daryl tried to work faster…his fingers working on the button to his pants and then carefully tugging the zipper down. He hissed once his cock was free and he could feel the pants slipping low on his hips.

Carol wasn't sure how much longer she could wait. Her nails were clawing at the silky cloth that covered the display table and her teeth were still sinking into her lip. Breathing hard, Daryl reached for the thong and pushed the crotch aside to reveal her entrance. Carol's body jerked in response but he growled softly to her. "_Easy_…"

She tried to listen, to relax…but the knowledge that he could now see the most intimate part of her was a little unnerving. Even in his drunken state, Daryl knew it had been a long time for both of them and he wanted to make sure she was ready. While one hand held the lacy fabric out of the way, the hunter traced her slit slowly with his middle finger. Carol was ready to cry out of frustration but she held herself in check. Daryl closed his eyes, groaning at the wetness he'd found between her legs. He let his finger slide along her core until he found the source of the moisture. Carol's body tensed and he knew he'd reached his goal. Pulling a deep breath into his lungs, he slipped his finger inside her. She cursed, arching her back, urging him to explore. Wanting to prepare her, he began moving his finger slowly, in and out of her sex. The more he moved, the more wetness seeped from her. Losing himself, he began moving faster, loving the sounds she made in response. When she moaned, he pushed a second finger into her heat. "_More_…" she pleaded, bucking weakly, riding his fingers. The hunter's breathing was ragged as he pushed his fingers in harder and then spread them in V shape, forcing her to open wider for him. "_Do it_…" she begged. "_Please_…"

Daryl knew what she needed…what they _both_ needed. He slipped his fingers out of her pussy and used his free hand to grip his cock. He took another deep breath, held the thong out of the way and pushed the head of his member against her entrance.

"_God_…" Carol whined. "_Right there_…"

He growled, pushing harder. He could feel her wetness moving around the blunt head of his cock, helping him as he worked his way inside. It was difficult…she was so tight and her body was resisting, the tension almost pushing him out, but he needed to be inside her. Gritting his teeth, he jerked his hips, forcing his manhood into her core. Carol's entire body went rigid and her eyes were slammed shut. She hung her head, trying to process the feeling of him between her legs.

Daryl needed a moment…he figured they both did. Now that he was buried in her sex, he released the thong and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table, on either side of Carol's body. He bowed his head, kissing and nipping at her shoulder as he adjusted to the feeling of all that warmth and pressure surrounding his cock. His scruff tickled her shoulder and Carol smiled in the dark, her walls squeezing him.

"_Ya alright_?" he breathed against her skin.

She turned her head, smiling at him. "_I'm great_." she whispered.

He smirked at her and got closer, their lips meeting for a quick kiss. But the slight contact wasn't enough. Carol braced herself against the table and pushed back, making him growl. He countered her movement, jerking forward, his hips ramming into her ass. She clawed desperately at the cloth beneath her, a curse flying from her lips. "_Fuck_…"

It was all the encouragement Daryl needed. He moved his strong hands to her hips, gripping her hard and holding her in place as he started to move. Her walls were clinging to his shaft, not wanting to let him go, but he pulled back anyway, nearly leaving her core empty. He let the blunt tip rest just inside her entrance, savoring the way she tensed around him. He could feel more wetness leaking from her and knew he needed to act. Widening his stance, just slightly, and gnawing his bottom lip, the hunter thrust himself back inside, making her scream. The sound was intoxicating and he loved the way he could slide into her center until his pelvis was pressed to her ass. The friction of the lace against his cock was incredible and he wanted more. He paused, savoring the feeling of being inside her…but Carol was impatient.

"_Don't stop_…" she moaned, her back arching again. "_Just fuck me_…"

Daryl felt her soft walls tighten around his shaft and had to fight to keep from coming right then. "_Spread your legs_…" he growled, strands of dark hair hanging in his eyes.

Carol groaned, doing as she was told. She would give him whatever he wanted.

The hunter's fingers were still curling around her hips, keeping her in place. His lips parted when he felt her walls opening. The moment she spread her long, toned legs, he felt the added space in her core and wanted desperately to fill it. With his grip secure, and his cock throbbing, Daryl bucked hard against her ass, snarling as he slipped deeper into her wet heat. Somewhere in his haze, the hunter realized that he'd never been bare inside a woman before. The feeling was almost overwhelming. Her slickness eased the way as he pushed in and pulled back, over and over, working her body…pleasuring her as best he could. Each time he sank back into her pussy, he could feel the lace rubbing his shaft and it made him shiver. Eager to go as deep as he could, he gripped the firm flesh of her ass and tried to spread her, opening her body…

Carol felt the air leave her lungs each time he thrust his cock inside. Her nails were clawing through the fabric that covered the table and her legs were shaking. She wished that she could see him…watch his face as he fucked her…but she couldn't deny the pleasure of being taken from behind. She felt like an animal, lost in heat and lust. The fact that she couldn't see him meant that all of her focus was on the sensations…the feeling of him moving inside her and his nails digging into the flesh of her ass..her _hips_…The way he filled her core…the veins on his swollen shaft pressing against her walls. He felt so thick, almost heavy and she couldn't believe the way he could move his strong hips. The motion between her legs was fluid…Daryl never seemed to slow or lose momentum. She could hear him grunting with each thrust and wondered how long he would last. She wanted so badly to come while he was inside her. The way his member filled her…he almost seemed to own her. Carol arched her back, feeling him slide into her center. She never realized it was possible for a man to penetrate a woman so deeply. He was hitting the top of her and she slammed her eyes shut, hissing when she felt him pull back, that long cock slipping from her sex with ease, she nearly growled.

The hunter stared down at his partner. She was panting and groaning as he pulled his dick from her pussy. As much as he loved being inside her, Daryl couldn't resist the urge to toy with her. He gripped his manhood, stroking it, feeling the slickness that coated it. He didn't intend to lose his erection while he teased Carol.

She glanced over her shoulder, and saw him tugging at his cock; his eyes were locked on her face. She didn't understand. "Wh…what are you doing?" she breathed, her body vibrating.

Daryl reached up, wiping a bit of sweat from above his lip while his other hand continued to stroke his member. "_Was thinkin'_…._maybe we shouldn't_…" he said, the corner of his mouth hitched up in a smirk.

Carol's lips parted in disbelief. Swallowing her pride, she kept her blue on his face and pleaded with him. "_I can't stop…I need it_…" she tried to catch her breath. "_I need you_."

The hunter gave his cock another good pull before pushing the now damp lace out of the way and guiding himself back to her entrance. "_Tell me_…." he growled, rubbing the tip along her slit.

Carol couldn't believe the way he was acting. She was beyond physically frustrated and she didn't have a choice. Arching her back and pushing against his manhood she moaned. "_I_ _need you_."

Daryl smirked, forcing himself inside again, his hands returning to her hips. "_This what ya need_?" he breathed, thrusting hard.

Her insides trembled around his shaft and she cried out. "_Yes! That's it…please_…"

Daryl was done playing. The tip of his tongue was resting between his lips as he set a fast pace, creating a strong, steady rhythm inside her. His hips continued to collide with her ass and he held her in place, taking her the way he wanted to. Her pussy was so tight and she seemed to only get tighter…her passage narrowing around his throbbing cock, but he had no intentions of slowing down. Even in the dark, he could look down and watch his dick disappear in her sex. He was mesmerized as he watched the shaft slip in and out of her tight body. He could feel himself stretching her as he pulsed and he knew it wouldn't be long. He had to focus or he would come. Bucking harder, and faster, he tried to find the spot that held her tension. He knew he could…he was so deep in her pussy, there wasn't a part of her he couldn't reach. The friction of the lace, the pressure of her walls and the wetness that continued to seep from inside her…it was all too much and the hunter had to fight through it. Filled with a sudden desire to control the woman underneath him, Daryl leaned forward…the action drove him further into her center and she cursed. He reached out, gripping her neck, and forced her down onto the table. With her cheek pressed to the silky cloth, Carol groaned. He felt her walls opening again.

_She likes it…_

With one hand still curled around the back of her neck, he kept her down while his hips continued to thrust. His other hand remained on her hip, keeping her ass pressed against his pelvis. He stared down at her, fascinated by her submission. As his body worked hard to satisfy her, sweat dripped from the ends of his hair, the salty droplets hitting her back. Her skin was slick, almost glowing in the dark and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold back. Each time her pussy clenched around him, he was tempted to come. All that wet warmth wrapped around his manhood was causing his resolve to crumble…

Carol was sure she'd never felt anything better than Daryl's cock pounding into her center…until he grabbed her neck. His strong grip gave her an incredible high and she nearly climaxed when he pushed her down to rest on the table. Whatever control he wanted…he could have. As long as he kept moving his hips, and his shaft stayed hard, she didn't care what else he did. She spread her legs a fraction wider, letting him sink into her heat. His member was so rigid that it almost hurt her, but she wanted it. She wanted every last inch that he could give her. He'd set a furious pace between her legs and she had no plans to stop him. Her clit was throbbing and her legs were trembling…muscles tensing around his member. "_God_…" she cried, her eyes still closed.

Daryl was lost in her sex…the smell of her sweat, the feeling of her pussy, the way her firm ass felt in his grip. He could hear her crying out, moaning, cursing and begging each time he pushed himself into her…but he still hadn't broken her. "_Christ_!" he snarled, ramming his hips against her ass and feeling the wetness glide around his aching cock. He needed release, _quickly_…. He squeezed her neck just a bit harder and felt her clench around him. His eyes widened at the realization.

_She needs more…_

He kept pushing and pulling, moving in and out of her increasingly tight passage. He growled, throwing his entire body into the motion as he fucked her. He moved faster, thrusting his hard-on as deep as it could go…again, and again, and again… She was coming undone underneath him but he had to be sure. So he jerked his hips as he stood behind her, feeling more like a man than he ever had in his life. He was fucking _his_ woman, the way that _he_ wanted to…the way that _she_ wanted him to and the knowledge only compounded his own pleasure. The head of his cock continued to tighten…moisture forming at the tip, and his shaft was throbbing almost painfully within the confines of her sex. He moved back and forth, pushing her as hard as he could and his grip grew tighter around her neck. With his teeth clenched and all his muscles tensing, he gave her a strong, sudden, thrust that sent his manhood into the deepest part of her core. When he hit her spot, he released her neck, both of his hands returning to her hips so that he had leverage to keep fucking her.

Carol's eyes widened and she gasped. There was a feeling of intense euphoria as a spasm hit her core, nearly paralyzing her. Her legs were shaking violently and the muscles in her core seemed to flutter. She groaned into the silky cloth and arched her back, inviting him in. There was a stifling warmth between her weak legs and she was dimly aware of a gush of wetness coating Daryl's member. She could hear him cursing, and feel his nails digging into her skin…but none of that mattered. She was experiencing the most incredible high of her life… Carol felt weightless as the orgasm rocked her. Warm waves of crippling pleasure rushed through her, one after the other, making her weak…they rolled through her body, erasing all of her tension. She was fighting to breathe…a single, hushed word falling from between her lips… "_Yes_…"

It took the hunter a moment to realize that he'd broken her. He saw the way the cloth was clutched tightly in her fists and then he felt the wetness hit his manhood, leaving no room for doubt. Knowing that he brought her pleasure seemed to make him dizzy. His lids were heavy and his mouth was open as he continued to thrust. The only thing he could be sure of was the way her walls felt as they constricted around him. He kept moving, feeling weaker every time… he couldn't handle the way her sex gripped him. From her place on the table, Carol whispered to him. "_Let go." _Her eyes were closed in ecstasy and there was a faint smile on her lips, but he heard her. "_I wanna feel it_.." she added, using the last of her strength to push back against him. As her body moved back, he growled, jerking forward. He was gripping her hips so tightly, holding her body against him as his orgasm rushed forward, spilling from his cock and coating her walls. His mouth was still open as he bucked weakly, emptying his seed inside her. He let her soft walls caress his throbbing member, coaxing the pleasure from him. Daryl groaned, thrusting into her just a few more times until his aching dick finally finished spurting. "_Jesus_…" he breathed, feeling himself go soft inside her.

They both winced as he slipped from her. The combined effects of powerful orgasms and strong liquor made them unsteady on their feet and Daryl stumbled to the floor, dragging her with him. Carol was still gripping the silky cloth, and it came down on top of them, along with dozens of pairs of panties that had been scattered on top of the table.

Carol couldn't help it; she was still in a state of drunken, euphoria and she started giggling. They were both lying on the cold floor, their sweaty bodies tangled in the silky, pink table cloth, and lacy underwear all around them. She brought one hand up to cup her forehead and continued to giggle.

Daryl was on his back, his eyes closed and his hands in his hair as he tried to catch his breath. "The hell is so funny?" he asked.

She rolled onto her side and stared at him through the dark. "I don't know…" she chuckled, "Everything I guess."

He released a heavy sigh and rubbed his tired eyes. "_Shit_…"

She bit her lip, remembering the way it felt when her orgasm struck. "Shit is right…" she sighed happily.

Daryl could hear the notes of satisfaction in her voice. He sat up, glancing over at her. "Ya liked that?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

Carol chuckled, nodding.

The hunter smirked. "Good. I didn't hurt ya did I?"'

"You did not." she assured him

They smiled at one another before flopping onto their backs and staring at the ceiling. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Carol sighed. "God…I can't remember the last time I felt this good."

Daryl still had the smirk on his mouth. "Guess I did alright."

She laughed, running a hand over her face. "I'm not going to spend the whole night telling you how great you are….if that's what you're thinking…"

"Why not?" he asked, his hair a tangled, sweaty mess. Dark locks hung in his eyes as he stared at her.

She blinked, incredulous, before dissolving into another fit of laughter. When she finally managed to get herself under control she blew out a warm breath and draped one arm across her forehead. "Did that really just happen?" she asked, almost as if she were speaking to herself.

Daryl snorted. "I think so. Jesus." His cock was sore and his legs were weak.

Carol sighed again, savoring the lingering effects of her climax. Before she could stop herself, she was muttering into the dark. "_God, that was so good_…." her eyes were closed as she relived every delicious moment in her head.

The hunter was intrigued. With a grunt, he moved so that part of his body was hovering over her. He stared down into her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she did, her breath caught, but she quickly smiled at him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He dipped his head and nipped at her collar bone before meeting her gaze again. "Guess I just don't get tired of hearin' it." he smirked.

Carol felt color forming in her cheeks. "Hearing what?" she asked playfully.

"That it was good." he answered.

"Well it was." she smirked back at him, reaching for his hair and twirling a piece around her finger.

He ran a calloused hand over her breasts and then down, past her belly, until her reached her clit. When his finger brushed the sensitive nub, her hips bucked and she gasped. "How long ya been hidin' all this?" he asked, meaning her body.

She giggled, feeling light-headed. "Why didn't you ever tell me that you were so good in bed?"

They both chuckled. Carol rolled onto her side again and stared at him. "How'd we get here?" she asked.

Daryl sighed. "Booze." He met her gaze and smirked at her. "Booze…'n you runnin' around in that damn underwear."

She laughed. "The alcohol was definitely a key factor… I won't argue that. But you're the one who came up here and started chasing me."

"Well, I wanted ya." he said. The answer was honest, automatic, and it seemed to surprise them both.

Carol propped herself up on one elbow and stared at him, her brows knitting together. "What?"

He blushed, looking away.

"Daryl?" she said.

He turned away from her, lying on his side. The pink cloth was tangled around his legs and he was trying to free himself from it. She sighed and forced herself so sit up. She crawled to him and started helping him with the cloth. When their eyes met, she held his gaze. "Will you stop?" she asked. "Let me help you."

He swallowed hard and let her fix the sheet. She managed to untangle the fabric and then drape it over him, like a blanket. "I ain't sleepin' here…" he said.

But Carol just smiled at him. "You're not gonna make it down the stairs, and I can't carry you." With that, she eased under the blanket and laid down beside him. After several seconds of silence she hesitantly inched closer to him and slid her arm around his middle. He tensed but didn't stop her. Drawing on her courage she pulled him until their bodies were flush, her bare chest pressed to his back. As they lay there, trying to remain calm, Carol inhaled the familiar scent from his hair. "I want you too." she whispered, her hand moving softly along his side, down to his hip and then back up to his ribcage.

He rolled over to face her and their eyes locked. They stared at one another for the longest time, each of them trying to puzzle out what they meant to the other. "Daryl…" she said. "I know it's been hard lately…everything that's happened. I just…I want you to know that you're not alone. I'm here. I'll always be here." she said, offering a weak smile.

He brushed the hair back from his forehead and focused on her. "Sometimes…I think you're gonna take off. I'm just gonna wake up…'n you'll be gone. I know ya been thinkin' about it." he growled softly.

Carol couldn't lie to him. "I've thought about it…" she admitted. "But I can never go through with it. Anytime I try…" she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I just feel like I'm needed here."

Daryl considered her words. "Ya are." his expression was somber.

As Carol stared at the man she cared so deeply for, she began to wonder when the alcohol would wear off…or if it hadn't begun to wear off already… Needing to feel close to one another, they leaned in until their lips met. These kisses didn't hold any animalistic urgency…they were kind, and soft…hopeful, as the two broken people worked to convince each other that they mattered. They kissed, and Daryl ran his fingers through her mussed hair until he was gently gripping the back of her neck. When they broke apart, they were still so close…staring at one another. Daryl couldn't believe that he was lying on the floor, under a pink sheet, surrounded by women's panties…with Carol. And she seemed equally surprised, but neither of them were in a hurry to leave. They laid together, talking, listening to one another. The more they spoke, the more they realized how much they'd missed it. It might've taken some liquid courage to get their walls down, but once Carol and Daryl opened up, they experienced genuine relief that comes from empathy…human understanding. Carol had been right…things weren't fine. They might never be fine again, but as long as she had Daryl, and he had her, she believed that they could cope.

**I know that this was one was on the long side too, so sorry! I always try to set things up so that they're as believable as possible, and sometimes that takes a little time : ) Hopefully you guys had some laughs, some cold shower moments and some feels! Really hope you liked it Lisab876! Gotta be honest…I'm never gonna be able to go into Victoria's Secret again, without thinking of this lol. I'm working on requests and actually have more than I can handle at the moment. So sorry, but I can't take anymore right now : ( I'll let you guys know as soon as I can take more, so save those juicy ideas please! If you like this, please tell me why in the reviews! **

-**Sami **


	7. Favors

**Hi again : ) I'm glad to be back! This request comes from Yogapantsinpublic who wanted Daryl and Carol bunking in the same cell. She thought it would be fun to see them engaging in a little…self-love ; ) Well, as tends to be the case with these two…one thing leads to another and…you'll just have to wait and see! This is a one-shot and is not connected to the haircut mini-series. Cigarettes and cold showers; keep them handy…you've been warned ; ) let's get naughty!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead…but maybe someday…**

**Chapter 7. Favors**

_Daryl groaned when he felt her slide down his cock. The warm, wet, pressure was so welcome and he grabbed her hips, holding on tight as he bucked up into her heat. She cried out, clawing his chest and grinding her pelvis down against his. They didn't waste time…and they didn't fight it. This was about pleasure…release, and Daryl wanted as much as she could give him. So they moved faster, rocking against one another, moaning…panting each other's names as sweat broke out all over their bodies. He was deep in her pussy and she kept riding him, urging him to come. "That's it…" she breathed. "Like that…"_

_He managed a nod and continued to force himself up into her center._

_"Come on…" she moaned._

_"I'm tryin…" he growled._

_"Try harder…I'm almost there…" she pleaded._

_"Fuck…" he gasped, feeling her clench around him. "I'm gonna come…"_

_"Do it." she whispered, bending over him to kiss his neck and suck at the tender flesh. "I wanna feel it."_

_But Daryl was scared…he didn't want to disappoint her. His swollen cock was aching for release inside her and everything she did seemed to heighten his pleasure. Her hips were moving faster, creating incredible friction. _

_"You're so hard…" she moaned, her legs pressing in on either side of his body._

_"Christ…" he breathed. "I….I…"_

_"Do it." she urged, her blue eyes trained on his face. "Just let go…"_

_His sweaty hands went to her breasts and he squeezed hard, making her cry out. Her walls tightened around him and he could feel himself nearing the edge. "I'm…." he tried to speak but couldn't. Using his grip on her breasts for leverage, he bucked hard underneath her, pushing his manhood up into her sex. "I'm gonna…"_

_"I know…" she moaned, grinding on top of him. "I want you to. Please…just let go Daryl…let go…"_

_He was panting, his heart pounding against his ribs… With his head swimming and his muscles tensing, he thrust up into her heat. His hips were jerking wildly as he sought release…he was so close and she was so wet… She wouldn't let up. She was working him, lifting her hips and then sliding back down his shaft…her walls opening for him again, and again… "Fuckin' Christ…I can't…I can't…" he groaned._

_"You can ." she breathed, her insides hugging him, clinging to him… "I know you can. You want it… You wanna come, so do it." She clawed his chest again._

_He was bucking faster and faster as his member continued to grow harder inside her. "So fuckin' tight…" he nearly whined._

_"And you're so big…" she moaned. "I wanna feel you come. Now…" she pleaded. "Do it now." She bit her bottom lip and rocked her hips, fucking him as hard as she could._

_Daryl's eyes were half open…he was in a daze and all that mattered was the incredible suction between their bodies. She was moving faster, breathing harder and he couldn't take the way her pussy continued to tighten. Losing himself, the hunter gave her a strong, desperate, thrust, pushing his hard-on deep into her core. He could feel himself slipping through her sex, rubbing her walls and hitting the top of her. The sensation of penetrating her heat and finding the wetness that waited for him was too much and he finally gave in. _

_She was panting above him, her hips rocking relentlessly as she rode his cock. "That's it!" she cried, her pussy squeezing him as his shaft grew completely rigid inside her. _

_A string of curses flew from Daryl's lips as his orgasm rushed forward, spilling from his throbbing cock. He was dimly aware of his semen shooting up into her core, filling her…and he continued to buck, letting himself go. She was still riding him, her insides stroking his member, milking it until he had to beg her to stop. His eyes closed and his hands fell away from her breasts. He could feel the sweat beginning to dry on his skin as he waited for his heart rate to slow. His chest was heaving as he lay on the bunk, his member still buried between her legs, as he savored his climax. It was everything he needed…her wet pussy wrapped around him… All of his tension had disappeared and he lay blissful, reveling in his own selfish satisfaction…_

When Daryl felt himself come, he sat up quickly, hitting his head on the bunk above him. "Jesus!" He hissed, rubbing the now aching spot on his head. It took a moment for him to get his bearings. His breathing was ragged and he was covered in sweat…his legs tangled in the thin, white sheet that covered his bunk. The pounding of his heart gradually began to subside and he swallowed hard, remembering where he was. He was in Carol's cell, and judging by the surrounding darkness…it was the middle of the night.

Sighing, and running his hands through his tangled hair, Daryl forced himself to accept the fact that he'd been dreaming…_again_. "_Lord_…" he muttered. His erection was dying and he could feel the sticky evidence of his climax on his lower belly. He huffed, disgusted with himself, and leaned over the side of the bunk. Fumbling in the dark, he reached under the bunk and pulled out a rag he'd hidden there several nights ago. As he cleaned himself off, the best he could, the hunter realized that the dreams were becoming problematic. He couldn't keep doing this.

_Ya best get all that shit outta your head._

Daryl grunted, returning the rag to its hiding place and flopping back down on the thin mattress. Tonight marked the fourth time that he'd been roused from sleep by dreams that made his heart race. As he lay there, staring at the bunk above him, he tried to decide what was worse… Waking up before he hit his peak and then suffering with an erection until he couldn't take it anymore and had to relieve the pain as quietly as possible…or waking up after he came and then dealing with the mess and the shame that accompanied his climax… He ran a hand over his face and sighed. He didn't know why any of this was happening…well, that wasn't entirely true; he had an idea…

The survivors recently opened the prison gates to quite a few Woodbury refugees. Men, women and children poured into the building, with luggage in tow…and the once spacious shelter seemed to become crowded overnight. He'd been driven from his perch when everyone was asked to make room for the new arrivals. The survivors quickly doubled up and Daryl hardly had time to process what was happening before Carol stood in front of him, telling him he could bunk with her. He'd been dumbfounded…unsure of what to do or say, and the next thing he knew, she was moving past him, carrying his things to her cell. It didn't seem to bother her. She'd acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world, even giving him his pick of the bunks. He vaguely remembered nodding and gesturing to the bottom bunk and then it was over. The perch was clear, his things were stacked neatly in a corner of her cell, and he found himself displaced…relocated, and with a brand new roommate. Daryl was sure he hadn't even been able to utter a single word of opposition. The whole thing must've taken all of ten minutes and Rick and Carol seemed to agree that the arrangement would work. He remembered standing out on the walkway, with parted lips, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to determine what the hell happened.

He supposed, all things considered, that the new living arrangement wasn't terrible. Carol knew him well enough to know that he needed space, and a little time to adjust. So on their first night, she'd taken a late watch shift, letting him have the cell to himself. He knew why she did it, and he was grateful, but neither of them acknowledged it directly. She simply slung her rifle onto her shoulder and glanced back at the hunter, giving him a soft smile before leaving. He answered with a nod and watched as she pushed the hanging sheet aside and walked away. Daryl felt awkward…anxious about sleeping in a cage…and someone _else's_ cage at that. She knew that he preferred isolation, and that he valued his privacy, so she left him there, to his own devices, hoping it would make the transition easier. And it had. He rose from the bunk after she left and worked to organize his belongings. Once he'd arranged his things, and tossed the poncho on his bunk to mark his territory, Daryl felt just a little bit better about the whole thing. He figured if he had to share with someone…he could do worse than Carol. So, while she was gone on her watch shift, he pulled off his boots, shrugged off his vest, and eased onto the bottom bunk. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax after he pulled the sheet over his body. Enjoying the peace and quiet, along with the privacy she'd given him, the hunter fidgeted to get comfortable and finally let himself fall asleep. Little did he know that the scent from the pillow would find its way into his dreams.

That first night, Daryl didn't dream of anything in particular…at least nothing that he could recall in vivid detail. There were blurred images…familiar voices… The only thing that truly stood out was a sense of comfort. Daryl didn't often remember his dreams and when he did, they were usually tragic…_frightening_…things he wished he could forget. But that first night in Carol's cell, he felt strangely welcome…comfortable. He wasn't sure what had taken place in his dream but by the time he woke, sunlight was streaming into the cellblock and he quickly realized he'd overslept. Granted, sleeping on the bunk had definitely proven preferable to curling up on the perch, but Daryl sensed that something else helped him rest. When he woke up and his eyes eased open, the first thing he noticed was a familiar scent. He inhaled, slowly, trying to puzzle it out. It only took him a few seconds to realize that it was the pillow…it smelled like her…like her hair. He tensed, realizing that she must've been using the bottom bunk all this time. A pang of guilt was suddenly stabbing at his consciousness. He'd taken her bunk. Sitting up slowly, he grabbed the white sheet that was draped over him and brought it to his face. He smelled the fabric and found that it carried the same scent. The hunter sighed, feeling like an ass for taking her space. But just as feelings of doubt and frustration began to get to him, he heard someone knocking at the bars, just beyond the privacy sheet. "You up?" Carol called to him.

He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. "Yeah." he answered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Mind If I come in?" she asked.

Daryl was in awe of the fact that she was asking permission to enter her own cell. "I'm good. C'mon." he said, yawning.

She pushed the sheet aside and smiled when she saw him. He was sitting up, on the bottom bunk, his shirt thoroughly wrinkled and his hair a mess. "Sleep okay?" she asked, slinging the rifle off her shoulder and setting it on a small end table that was pushed against the far wall.

He grunted, running his hands over his face as he struggled to fully wake up.

"I'll take that as a yes." she chuckled, pulling off the light jacket she always wore.

Daryl yawned again and glanced at her. She was sitting on the floor, fumbling to get her boots off. When she was done, she stood up, rubbing her lower back and then moved to climb up to her bunk. Guilt was creeping into the hunter's mind again. "Hey," he called to her.

She paused, her hands gripping the ladder that lead to the top bunk. "What is it?" she asked.

He cleared his throat, trying to summon the right words. "Sure you're okay with all this?"

Her brows knit together and she smiled at him. "With what?"

Daryl sighed, rubbing his neck. "Sharin'."

She chuckled, making her way up the ladder. "Daryl…I think if we survived the storage units…we can manage this. I really don't mind. Besides; you're good company."

It was the hunter's turn to be confused.

_Good company?_

He huffed, choosing to disregard the statement. "Ya ain't gotta stay up there…if ya don't wanna." He still felt bad for displacing her.

Carol was easing under the covers and getting comfortable above him. She closed her eyes, snuggling down into her pillow and laughing quietly. "Is that an invitation?" she asked, still laughing.

Daryl didn't understand at first, but when he put the pieces together, color rushed to his cheeks and he was glad she couldn't see him. He snorted, shaking his head. "Quit."

Carol couldn't help it. Daryl was an easy mark. She figured if she was giving up her bunk, she'd earned the right to toy with him every now and then. "Fine." she chuckled. "All joking aside…I really am fine up here."

Daryl huffed. "Good."

"I like being on top." she added, dissolving into another fit of laughter and trying to hide it by burying her face against the pillow.

Daryl blushed harder. He leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. "Lord…" he sighed, wondering why that woman took so much joy from teasing him. The sound of her laughter was beginning to grate on his nerves and he forced himself to get out of bed. He didn't even turn to look at her as he donned his vest and grabbed his bow. She was still giggling when he pushed the privacy sheet aside and wandered out onto the walkway. As his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the cell block, the hunter idly wondered how his new living arrangement was going to work out…since his roommate seemed to possess all the maturity of a twelve-year-old…

Daryl had to admit…that first night he spent in her cell…he slept better than he had in a long time. And she'd been more considerate than he could've hoped for. She gave him her bunk along with an entire night to himself to adjust to the new surroundings. He supposed that enduring her suggestive comments was a very small price to pay for a comfortable partnership. Daryl didn't always play well with others, but he got along with Carol. He felt that they understood one another and wouldn't have a problem sharing the cell, as long as they respected each other's boundaries. But neither of them knew just how difficult that would soon prove to be.

On day two, he stepped into the cell without knocking. He was quickly realizing that it was a habit he needed to break. Carol deserved just as much consideration as she'd shown him, but he just wasn't used to knocking. He pushed the sheet aside and stopped short. Carol was standing in the middle of the cell with her back to him. She was grunting softly while pulling a long-sleeved shirt over her head. He could see that she had a faded tank top on underneath but he still felt as though he were intruding on some sort of private moment. He cleared his throat, trying not to startle her.

She turned to face him, the shirt now clutched in her hands.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked as he stepped into the cell and set his bow down on the bottom bunk.

She ran a hand through her mussed hair and glanced at a bin at the opposite end of the cell. "Laundry day." she said.

Daryl followed her gaze and noticed that the container was filled with clothes. When he refocused on her face, he could've sworn there was a hint of color in her cheeks. She folded her arms across her chest as if she were trying to hide from him. There was something strange about seeing her in a tank top…she tended to keep herself covered. He couldn't even recall having seen her shoulders before. But he took a second to look…noting the freckles that were visible near the straps.

"So…" she said, pulling him from his momentary trance.

"Hm?"

"Do you have anything that needs to be washed?" she asked.

Daryl faltered. If he were being perfectly honest, he'd have to admit that all of his clothes could do with a very thorough washing, but he preferred to take care of that on his own. Now that he was sharing a cell with this woman, he wasn't sure that he felt comfortable with her handling his laundry. His thoughts must've registered on his face.

"Come on…I know you've got dirty clothes. Just toss them in the bin; I'll make sure they get cleaned." she said.

He shook his head. "Nah; I'm good." Daryl took a step back, separating himself from her.

Carol cocked her head to the side and studied him. She knew he'd spent the morning hunting. There were flecks of blood on his shirt…his arms, even a few on his neck. A familiar musk hung heavy around him; he smelled like the woods. "Really?" she said. "You're gonna tell me there's nothing of yours that needs to be washed?"

He swallowed hard, taking another step back. Without offering any more answers, or excuses, he turned away from her and shrugged the vest off, tossing it onto his bunk. He was about to sit down when he felt her tap his shoulder. Sighing, he turned around. "What?"

She just stared at him, her arms still folded across her chest.

"You really ain't gonna let this go?" he snapped.

"No." She answered. "I'm not."

His temper was beginning to flare and he seemed to remember all the reasons he preferred isolation. "Ya ain't gotta waste time worryin' about my clothes." he growled.

She moved towards him, undaunted by the anger in his tone. "I don't consider it to be a waste." said Carol. "We're sharing a cell. I would rather we at least made some sort of effort to stay clean."

Daryl glared at her. "I can take care of my own damn clothes."

She eyed him up and down. "It doesn't look like it."

The hunter bristled.

"I'm getting ready to take this load down." she tossed her own shirt into the bin. "You might as well just give me whatever you have. You're making a bid deal out of nothing." she said, frustrated.

But an uncomfortable silence had fallen over them. They seemed to be locked in an angry staring contest, each of them waiting for the other to back down. After several minutes, Carol grew tired of the whole thing. She moved until she was standing in front of him. "Fine." she said, her hands going to the hem of his shirt.

Daryl tensed. He didn't know what was happening. His lips parted and he tried to stop her, but it was too late. She was yanking the grimy shirt up, her knuckles brushing his sides as she worked the fabric up to his rib-cage. Feeling as though she might've crossed a line, Carol froze, looking into his eyes. They were both at a loss for words. His breathing had picked up and he stared at her with fearful eyes. She stared back, her lips parting as she tried to offer an explanation. "I…" but the words just weren't coming.

The hunter could see it in her face…she was sorry…she hadn't meant to upset him or scare him. Swallowing hard, he tried to relax. Her expression softened but the shirt was still clutched loosely in her hands. He sensed that she was going to release him and he felt that he should do something. Drawing on his courage, he sighed and slowly lifted his arms. It took Carol a moment to realize what he was doing.

"Go on then…" he said. "If ya want it so bad…"

A faint smile appeared on her face and she resumed tugging the fabric until she'd pulled it up and over his head, mussing his hair in the process. Once the shirt was off, Carol stepped back, giving him space. "Thanks." she said, her gaze fixed on the dingy piece of fabric in her hands.

He sighed. "Happy?"

She glanced up at him and swore that she felt the rational part of her brain shut down. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his dark, shaggy hair was sticking up funny from where the shirt tousled it. Her eyes wandered from his strong shoulders down to his flat stomach but she stopped herself before she got any further. "I…" she wasn't sure what she was trying to say…but it wasn't working.

Something about the way she was looking at him made Daryl uneasy. He brought a thumbnail to his mouth, chewing on it. Realizing that she needed to distract herself, Carol turned away from him and walked towards the laundry bin, dropping his shirt in. She felt strangely giddy as she bent down to grab the container and haul it off the ground. She was just about to leave the cell but she paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. He was leaning against their bunks, chewing on his nail…and so much of his damp skin was on display for her. She couldn't help the next words that tripped off her tongue. "You sure _all_ your shirts aren't dirty?" Carol bit her lip, enjoying the view for just a minute longer.

Daryl was lost. His brows knit together as he stared at her. "What?"

She blinked, trying to regain her composure. "Nothing. Never mind." She chuckled, a flush spreading across her face. "I'm gonna go." She was laughing as she pushed past the curtain and headed down the walkway.

Daryl was left alone with his thoughts and found that he was still thoroughly confused by whatever had just taken place. He continued to gnaw at his thumb nail while he leaned against their bunks.

_Woman's got a lotta nerve…._

Something about that aggravated him. Back at the quarry…even on the farm, he never would've let someone invade his space the way she just did. He'd spent his whole life cultivating a nasty, hostile demeanor in order to keep people away…but since the world turned, he found that the loud, aggressive person he'd been at the quarry seemed to have disappeared, or at least changed dramatically. He guessed Carol had too. The mousy woman who'd been a slave to her husband never would've had the courage to forcibly take Daryl's shirt away from him on laundry day. She'd walked right up to him and grabbed his shirt as if it were nothing…as if she'd done it a thousand times before… He couldn't help but wonder if the fact that he was a _guest_, in _her_ cell, had anything to do with her boldness. He supposed that if that little exchange had taken place on his perch, he might've had the upper hand…but he was on her turf, and Daryl could respect that. The hunter decided not to linger on the fact that he'd shivered when her knuckles brushed his skin…or that he'd wasted even a single second of his time staring at the freckles on her shoulders. He shook his head, clearing away the foolish thoughts. As Daryl made his way across the cell and crouched down near his pile of belongings, he hoped for two things: that he could find a shirt she would approve of, and that they could make it through the rest of their first week without incident.

It was on the third day of their new living arrangement that things became just a bit more complicated for the two survivors. The group had discovered, much to their dismay, that the majority of the Woodbury refugees were completely clueless when it came to self defense and handling walkers. Apparently, sticking to strict curfews and hiding behind walls hadn't done much to prepare Woodbury's residents for the harsh reality of the world they lived in. The able-bodied men and women didn't have much interest in helping stab walkers through the fence and their faces went pale whenever Rick mentioned supply runs. The deputy met with his people and they'd come to an understanding; if the refugees were going to stay, they needed to contribute…to become assets. Rick and the others guessed that Woodbury's skilled fighters had all been killed during that failed attack on the prison…or soon afterwards when the Governor supposedly snapped, taking the lives of his own soldiers. That being said, the prison was now filled with people who were little more than livestock…and that had to be corrected.

Once again, Daryl found himself in a situation that he couldn't recall consenting to. Granted, all of the original prison residents seemed to be pitching in. Anyone with a skill set was busy teaching others. Herschel was working with a small group, showing them the basics of treating minor injuries. Fortunately, one of the Woodbury refugees was a nurse; she and the farmer were doing well together and had a small section of the library devoted to medical training. Beth helped by looking after Judith, as well as some of the younger children that had recently arrived at the prison. Rick had taken a group to the Eastern side of the yard to work on gun use. Maggie and Glenn were on watch; Maggie was slowly pacing back and forth on the cat walk while Glenn leaned against the railing of one of the guard towers. Not wanting to be surrounded by strangers, Carl and Michonne opted for fence duty. With a sword and a crowbar, the two spent the afternoon stabbing corpses to avoid any pile-ups that might create weak spots along the fences. Daryl supposed that it all made sense…everyone was right where they should be…but that meant he was left to deal with his own group of useless survivors. The deputy had pulled him aside, earlier in the day, asking if he would mind showing the newcomers a few basic things to help them with self defense and close combat. Daryl had been with Rick's group long enough to know that if the deputy wanted something, he wasn't likely to let up, no matter how much the hunter whined or argued. So Daryl bit back the angry words that were burning on his tongue and grunted some sort of agreement to his leader. The idea of interacting with these strange new people was bad enough, but Rick had leaned in, grabbing Daryl's shoulder and telling him one last thing.

_Carol's gonna help…._

The hunter wanted to say no, to tell Rick to take her. The woman was a great shot and could probably do more good by teaching marksmanship, but the deputy wasn't opening the issue up for discussion. He simply turned, walking away, and left Daryl to deal with the task at hand. Carol had been standing with some of the newcomers but she moved to Daryl's side once Rick was gone.

"Hey," she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

"What?" he snapped, glaring at her.

She folded her arms across her chest and smiled at him. "It's fine. This is nothing. Let's just get through it and go on about our business. You should take this as a compliment."

He snorted. "Why's that?"

She rocked slowly on her heels before glancing at him. "Because Rick obviously has confidence in you. He wouldn't have asked you to do this if he didn't think you were the best person for the job. The way I see it," she nudged him again. "He's left these good people in very capable hands."

Daryl snorted again, rolling his eyes. "You done?"

She chuckled, nodding. "They're all yours." She gestured to the eight refugees they'd been left with.

The hunter grumbled under his breath before lifting his chin to look at the newcomers. "Guessin' ya'll ain't done much fightin'…since the turn…"

The onlookers shifted uneasily on their feet and he could hear them murmuring to one another.

"First thing I need ya to wrap your heads around is this." He glanced over his shoulder and gestured to the fences in the distance. There were dozens of walkers lingering just beyond the perimeter of the prison. Their pale, rotting fingers were clinging weakly to the fences while they moaned and growled out of starvation. "Those dead bastards…they ain't your concern."

The refugees seemed confused as they exchanged glances; he could see their brows knitting together. "You're not going to show us how to take out biters?" one woman asked.

Daryl's hands went to his hips as he considered an answer. "We'll get there…but first, ya'll need to learn how to deal with other people."

"Other people?" another refugee asked. The man's name was Tyreese; the group had crossed paths with him and his sister Sasha before the governor's attack. Daryl had to admit that the two were decent company, and they pulled their own weight. But from what the hunter could see, Tyreese had a strong distaste for violence and seemed to avoid conflict at all costs.

Daryl answered with a nod. "Corpses ain't got smarts…they ain't got speed. It's _people_ ya need to worry about. People that want what you got."

Tyreese bowed his head, absorbing the hunter's words. The others looked fearful, but none of them could offer up an argument. They'd seen for themselves how dangerous people could be.

Clearing his throat, Daryl gestured to his partner. "This here's Carol. She's gonna help me out." Even as he said the words, Daryl had trouble accepting them.

_The hell am I doin'? _

But it was too late to change course. He and Carol had a job to do, however unpleasant, and she was right; they just needed to push through and get it over with. He took a few steps back, distancing himself from her. Her arms were still folded across her chest as she eyed him. "How did you wanna start?" she asked.

Daryl was out of his depth. He rubbed the back of his neck and scuffed his boot on the grass.

Sighing, Carol rolled her shoulders and ran her hands through her hair. "How about this." she said.

He looked up, meeting her gaze.

"Why don't you just come at me?" She turned around and left him staring at her back. "Just try to take me from behind."

Daryl's lips parted and he had to take a moment to make sure he'd heard her correctly. He swallowed hard and wondered if she'd really meant to say that…

Carol sighed again and looked over her shoulder. "You just gonna stand there?" she asked.

The refugees were waiting patiently for their instructor to act, but he seemed frozen. Knowing that he couldn't continue to stall, Daryl took a deep breath and fought to clear his head.

_It's just Carol…Ain't nothin' I can't handle…_

Drawing on false confidence, he ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the ground one last time. When he met Carol's gaze they nodded to one another and she turned away, waiting for him to advance. The mid-day sun was glaring down at them and he took a second to wipe sweat away from his eyes.

_Lord _

Exhaling slowly, and keeping his focus on her back, he started moving…he was slow at first but he picked up speed as he got closer. Daryl didn't have a plan…he had no idea what he was supposed to do, so he clenched his teeth and hoped for natural instincts to kick in. The space between them was shrinking and suddenly he was there…he reached his target and one strong arm was locked around her neck while the other went across her torso, pulling her body against his.

The air left Carol's lungs when they collided. She knew he wasn't used to showing restraint, but she could tell he was trying. When his arm curled around her neck, the forcefulness was jarring, but it wasn't enough to hurt her. He had her in a head lock, but then his other arm was snaking around her middle pulling her back into him. He seemed to suddenly surround her…his strong body pressed up against her and his scent flooding her senses, like some sort of airborne toxin that made her dizzy. She was temporarily frozen, overcome by the man that held her… She closed her eyes, her head going back to rest against his chest while his grip tightened on her body. Lost in her haze, Carol forgot about the refugees. Nothing seemed to matter but the feeling of his arms banding around her and his solid body behind her. Her heart was thrumming and her legs felt weak. The hot blood coursing through her made her feel feverish and she found that she had to fight to stay standing.

Daryl knew, the instant he touched her, that he'd made a mistake. He heard the tiny gasp that escaped her and the sound seemed to resonate…echoing in his ears, over and over. His arm was locked around her neck and he'd intended to stop there, but once he had her in his grasp…he found that it wasn't enough. He had to feel more of her, _touch_ her… So he grabbed her around the middle and made sure their bodies were flush. They were both breathing hard and he pulled her scent into his lungs. He could smell her sweat, her skin…her _hair_…she smelled like a woman and he gripped her tighter. A bead of sweat rolled down his jaw line when he realized how close they were. Her ass was pressed against his groin and he knew that if she moved…if she struggled, he wouldn't be able to help his body's reaction. But it didn't matter. He had her…she couldn't get away, and something about that gave him a strange thrill. As far as he was concerned, the rest of the world had disappeared…they were the only two people left and he wasn't going to let her go. Keeping a growl locked in his chest, the hunter held his prey and continued to breathe her in.

It was Carol who finally came to her senses. Somehow, she was able to hear the hushed murmurings of the onlookers over the sound of her own pounding heart beat. Suddenly remembering what they were doing…and where they were, Carol blinked, regaining control of herself. She ignored the sharp, masculine scent that seemed to hang on him like an aura, and forced herself into action. Reaching quickly for the heavy knife that hung at her belt, she slipped the weapon from its sheath and jerked her arm upwards, with the intention of driving the shining tip of the blade into Daryl's neck. She stopped just short of making contact and Daryl swallowed hard. Slowly, he released his hold on her and took a step back.

Clearing her throat, and hoping that she didn't look half as flustered as she felt, Carol faced the refugees. "A weapon…even a small one, can make all the difference. Keep it where you have easy access…not tucked in your jeans or wedged in your boot; you have to be able to get to it quickly." she said, wiping some of the sweat from her brow.

There were a few nods and the refugees waited eagerly for further instruction.

"If you don't already carry weapons…I suggest you start. Anyone who's interested can see Rick; he'll help you pick something that works for you." She turned then, glancing over her shoulder and beckoning to Daryl.

His hands were on his hips and he was working to catch his breath as he stared at her.

"Come here…the way you were." she said.

A deep crease formed in the hunter's brow. He was quickly realizing that he'd lost control, at least to some extent, when he held her…and he wasn't sure he was ready for more contact. But she was calling to him, asking for his help…and the refugees were waiting for the training they'd been promised. He hung his head, cursing silently within the confines of his skull. Once his heart rate had slowed a bit, he nodded and made himself move towards her again. This time, he was hesitant, almost fearful as he secured one arm around her neck and the other around her mid-section. He didn't hold her as tightly and he made sure there was a tiny sliver of space between their bodies. Once she and her partner were in position, Carol eyed the refugees. "I went for the neck," she said. "But this is another option…" she raised her arm, lifting the knife up high, and then jerking it down at an angle as if she intended to drive the blade into Daryl's thigh. She felt him tense behind her as the knife neared his leg, but she stopped, just as she had before. "There's a major artery here…" she carefully drug the tip of the knife along the inside of Daryl's thigh…the tip of the blade was scraping on the worn fabric of his pants. "If you can't lift your arms high enough to reach a vital point like the neck…the leg will do. Hit that femoral artery, and your attacker will go down…they won't be getting back up." She turned her head, glancing at Daryl and giving his arm a pat, "Thanks." she said. He nodded, releasing her.

Sensing that she would need to take the lead with their little self-defense class, Carol rubbed her neck and studied the onlookers. "Sometimes…you'll find yourselves in situations where struggling won't help. Maybe you're outmatched…the attacker is stronger, _faster_…you don't have a weapon…"

"What do you do?" one woman asked, her eyes wide and fearful.

Carol's hands went to her hips. "Say the attacker gets in a few good hits…you go down…sometimes it's better to _stay_ down."

The woman's brow furrowed as she tried to understand. Daryl eyed Carol and wondered where she was going with all this. Slowly, carefully, Carol eased down onto the grass, laying on her back. "Whoever it is that's got you…they're not going to turn their backs until they know you're down for good. They'll check…whether with a nudge to the ribs, a soft kick…they'll check for a response. Daryl…" she called out, "Care to demonstrate?"

He swallowed hard, getting his nerves in check, and started to walk towards her. When he reached her, the hunter stared down at his partner. She was looking up at him, her face a mask of concentration. He slowly circled her body, walking around her several times, his eyes locked on hers…but she didn't move. When he came to a stop, he moved his leg, preparing to kick her. He had no intention of actually making contact, but he wanted to seem convincing. He pulled one leg back and then swung it forward, aiming for her ribs, but she sat up suddenly, gripping his ankle and twisting it. She was applying just enough pressure to make him swear and he lost his footing, hitting the ground hard. The instant he hit the grass, Carol was leaning over him with her knife at the ready. She was bending over him, one of her hands had formed a fist, clutching tightly at the front of his shirt while the other held the knife at an angle, as if she were poised to drive it into his neck. Their breathing had picked up again and they were staring hard at one another. Daryl was on his back, panting and trying to figure out exactly how this woman got him on the ground.

The refugees seemed equally shocked by Carol's ability to get the hunter on his back with so little effort. They murmured to one another and waited to see what their instructors would do next. Carol swallowed hard, calming herself, and whispered to him. "You okay?"

Daryl grunted at her. "I'm good. Ya wanna put that thing away now?" His eyes went to the knife that was still dangerously close to his neck.

She seemed to blush and quickly sheathed her weapon. "Sorry. You're sure your ankle's okay?"

He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. She was still kneeling beside him, his shirt clutched tightly in her fist. She seemed reluctant to let go and Daryl studied the way her pale fingers were curled around the dull grey fabric of his shirt. "Sure _you're_ okay?" he growled softly.

She chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Come on." She moved to stand and then held out her arm, waiting for him to take her hand.

Daryl's blue eyes narrowed as he looked up at her. He gripped her hand and she started to haul him up off the ground. He knew that he should've just let her help him, but something caught hold of him the moment she grabbed his ankle. The hunter felt as though a little bit of his dignity had been stolen when he hit the grass, and he needed something to restore his confidence. This was supposed to be his domain. So he stared up at her, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his mouth. Carol didn't understand why his expression had changed and she continued to pull his hand, trying to get him to stand. But instead of getting up, Daryl used his grip on her hand to pull her arm; the action was strong and sudden, causing Carol to lose her balance. She went down and Daryl didn't even give her a chance to react. Before she could move or speak, he was on her…straddling her body and pinning her arms above her head.

Carol was stunned, her heart thrumming rapidly in her chest as she stared up at her captor. She couldn't speak and she couldn't seem to get her bearings. Daryl was looming over her, a smug smirk on his face as he kept her arms pinned to the ground and her body trapped underneath him. She glanced at his arms and watched as drops of sweat followed the hard curves of muscle. His shaggy hair was hanging in his eyes and his scent was everywhere…leather and grass and smoke… the first button on his shirt was undone and she could see a hint of his chest, the skin damp, _glistening_… and for one _foolish_ second, Carol wanted nothing more than to push herself, up, lean forward and taste the salt on his skin…just to dip her tongue into the well of his throat… She could feel the delicious pressure of his fingers curling around her wrists and his pelvis resting over hers…

_God_…

Carol found that she wanted to stay like that, trapped in the grass, at his mercy. She wanted to keep looking up into those narrowed, blue eyes and see him smirking down at her. Nothing else mattered…

Daryl wasn't sure what he was doing. He just wanted to get the upper hand…and now that he had her on the ground, he was loathe to let her up. He liked having her underneath him. His heart was pounding heavy in his chest and sweat was making the shirt cling to his back, but he felt good…_dominant_. His lips parted to make way for ragged breathing and as he stared down at her, he realized that she wasn't fighting. Carol was on her back, her body completely still under his…she was letting him have control. She wasn't struggling to get away; she seemed strangely content. He watched the way her chest rose and fell as she tried to slow her breathing and then his eyes returned to her face. He noticed the faint dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the vibrant color of her eyes and the soft curves of her lips. He liked the way she looked, her face flushed and her hair mussed…the green grass all around her…and he could've sworn, as he watched her watching him, that she liked being trapped. The hunter's mind was struggling with that concept as his eyes roamed her face.

The refugees were staring at their instructors and wondering if the lesson had ended. One of the women, Karen, leaned in close, whispering to Tyreese. "Are they…?" She knew that Tyreese had interacted with these people before.

But the big man shook his head. "Nah...I mean…not that I've heard."

Karen's brows knit together. "Are you sure?"

Tyreese studied the two people who were still on the ground. "Pretty sure…" he said softly.

The refugees weren't the only ones confused by Carol and Daryl's behavior. In the nearest guard tower, Glenn was slowly lowering his binoculars. He'd been watching the little demonstration from the start and had difficulty accepting what he'd seen with his own eyes. No one hated touching more than Daryl…no one hated _people_ more than Daryl. And yet…the hunter had stood in the yard, with Carol at his side, as the two addressed the small group of charges they'd been left with. Glenn saw the way his companions attacked one another, or pretended to… and he noticed that they seemed to grow more and more comfortable with contact as the lesson progressed. The young man couldn't help but find it strange that Daryl would let Carol touch him…and that when either of them made contact with the other, they seemed to drag it out…hands lingering on skin… and the way they stared at one another…it was slightly unnerving to anyone looking on. Glenn didn't understand and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He couldn't help but scratch his head and wonder exactly how long it was going to take Daryl and Carol to get up off the ground.

But the two survivors were still lost in each other. Her lips had spread into a soft smile and she was staring at his mouth while he stared back at her. They might've spent the rest of their afternoon like that if Tyreese hadn't cleared his throat to get their attention. With their trance momentarily broken, Daryl and Carol both glanced at him; they seemed surprised to see that their students were still there. "Yes?" Carol asked, hoping she sounded relatively normal…her arms were still pinned above her head.

Tyreese blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you wanna show us how to deal with biters now?"

Carol gnawed her bottom lip as she stared up at Daryl. He reluctantly uncurled his fingers, letting her go. He took a moment to release a heavy sigh as he stood up, separating himself from her. He offered her his hand and she took it, hauling herself up. They stood on weak legs and brushed themselves off. When their eyes met, they held the connection for several heartbeats…each of them trying desperately to make sense of what had just taken place between them. Carol ran a hand through her hair. "I can take them to the fences…if you wanna take a break…" she said.

Daryl considered the offer. He could certainly use some air, and a quiet place to cool down inside the prison….but that didn't seem right. He told Rick that he would handle the class and he wasn't about to shrug his responsibilities off on Carol. So he wiped the sweat from above his lip and shook his head. "Nah. I got this. You go on."

She stared at him, her eyes questioning his decision.

"It's fine." he said, his hands on his hips. "Go on."

She shrugged, smiling at him. "Alright. As long as you're sure." She faced the group of refugees one last time, a faint blush on her cheeks. "I'll leave you all in Daryl's hands. Pay attention, and you just might learn something useful." She looked over her shoulder, smirking at him, and then headed back towards the prison.

Daryl was thrown off by the look she gave him…and by the whole afternoon in general. He wasn't sure how he was going to get through the rest of this lesson. He was rubbing the back of his head, and kicking absently at the ground when he heard one of the women talking to him.

"So you and Carol…"

The statement seemed to clear the hunter's head instantly. Without his partner there to distract him, and keep him in line, Daryl was free to be as brusque and as hostile as he wanted. He narrowed his eyes and stared hard at the woman. "Ya'll are on _my_ time now." he said, using a tone that brooked no arguments. "Carol ain't none of your concern. Now ya wanna learn how to deal with these bastards…or ya just gonna stand there jawin'?"

The refugees were taken aback by the hunter's sudden change in attitude.

"Cuz I can promise that no one's gonna step up and carry your sorry asses. Ya live, or ya die. That's on you." He pointed at them. "Now what's it gonna be?" he growled.

The refugees exchanged nervous glances and shifted on their feet. It was Tyreese who finally spoke up. "We're here to learn. You want us on the fence, then that's what we'll do." the big man spoke calmly, hoping to diffuse some of the hunter's anger.

Daryl huffed, his hands still on his hips. "Alright then; let's move." he turned away and started walking towards the fences; he could hear their reluctant footsteps as they followed him. "And roll up your damn sleeves; this ain't gonna be pretty." he called out.

Karen shook her head, marveling at the man's sudden aggression. "I guess you're right…" she said to Tyreese as they walked side by side.

"About what?" he asked

"They're not together." she mused.

"What makes you say that?"

Karen chuckled. "If they were sleeping together, I don't think he'd be this much of an ass."

Tyreese snorted, shaking his head. "Maybe."

With that, the refugees followed their instructor as he stormed across the yard.

Carol leaned against the wall, enjoying the cool concrete and the isolation of her cell. She let her head fall back and her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. She'd all but run back to the prison once Daryl dismissed her. She hurried through the cell block, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone. All she wanted was a minute to herself.

When Carol finally reached her cell, she pushed the privacy sheet aside and then let it fall back into place behind her. She'd been resting against the wall for several minutes and her heart rate was finally beginning to slow. Like Daryl, she had no idea what just happened between the two of them. When Rick pulled her aside that morning, asking if she would help Daryl with the lesson, she'd been fine with the whole thing…maybe a bit _confused_, but fine overall. She suspected that the deputy had chosen her because she and Daryl tended to get along fairly well…meaning Daryl argued less with her than he did with the rest of their group. And when she and Daryl stood in front of their group of refugees, she figured the whole thing would be fine…nothing they couldn't handle. But the instant they _touched_…when she felt his strong, sweaty arm go around her neck…she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her. He pulled her back against his hard body, trapping her…and she felt a sudden, crippling excitement rush through her like electricity. And _then_, when he had her on the ground…his legs straddling her waist, it was all she could do to keep herself from groaning.

It took a few minutes for Carol to get her breathing under control as she leaned back against the wall. She brought a hand to her forehead, cupping it, and let a sigh pass her lips. She was trying desperately to understand what happened out there in the yard. She wanted to know what came over her when she got him on his back…his shirt clutched tightly in her fist and her knife poised near his neck…it all seemed to happen so fast. Carol's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes flew open when the answer finally came…_arousal_.

That's what happened. The term sounded strange, even in the privacy of her mind. She hadn't experienced physical attraction in years and had all but forgotten what it felt like. Ed would've given her a bloody lip if he even suspected that she was looking at another man. After Ed was gone…the only thing that mattered was keeping Sophia safe. Carol's chest tightened at the memory of her daughter. She'd put all of her strength and energy into protecting the girl…hiding her…but it hadn't been enough. And when the unthinkable happened…when Sophia was finally _gone_…a part of Carol died with her. There was _something_…some essential piece of Carol's soul that was left in the red dirt that day, outside the barn…with the rest of the human wreckage. The home she'd found with her fellow survivors was a great comfort, and the bonds she'd formed with Rick's group slowly helped to rebuild her…but in all the time she'd spent with her fellow survivors…Carol had never experienced the spark of physical attraction.

It wasn't as if she didn't have any temptation… Rick, Glenn and Daryl were all appealing, in their own ways, but she'd never really looked close enough to appreciate all of the little details. They were simply part of her group…her _family_, and whether or not they were attractive seemed to be of little importance. She fought with them, _helped_ them, defended them when she could…and they'd all done the same for her. Somewhere along the line, she forged a friendship with Daryl. They had similar pasts and tended to think alike. They were both incredibly driven, focused, and did everything they could to limit distractions. She supposed that's why she'd grown closer to him than any of the others. But in all their days together…even the time they'd spent cramped in storage units during the winter…Carol never once considered the possibility that she and Daryl could engage in anything more than friendship. They'd all been so concerned with finding shelter that anything other than food, water, weapons and defense, fell to the wayside. That was why Carol had been so ready and willing to let the hunter share her cell; she couldn't foresee a single complication or negative outcome. It should've been easy…_simple_. She knew Daryl…she felt comfortable with him…but the second she crossed the line and pulled that shirt off of him, Carol found that she wanted to get to know him just a little bit better.

_God…_

As she stood in the cell that day, his dirty shirt clutched in her hands, Carol seemed to notice him for the first time. She liked his messy hair, and the way his skin always seemed to be covered in dirt and sweat. She liked the way he chewed his thumbnail when he got nervous, and how his eyes seemed brighter whenever his temper started to flare. The scruff on his chin, his husky voice, his _scent_…the way he seemed to radiate aggression, masculinity and testosterone from every pore, even if he didn't realize it...his defiant attitude, his lean, hard, body… The combination was suddenly staggering and seemed to remind Carol that she was a woman. All of those things had raced through her mind as the two of them stood in her cell, arguing over laundry. And that was when Carol realized that sharing a small space with Daryl might not be as easy as she thought.

The laundry incident had been bad enough, but _today_…..being trapped underneath her new cellmate as he kept her in the grass…Carol wasn't even sure how she'd made it through that without completely embarrassing herself. The sensations that were rioting inside her…sudden wants and needs ricocheting off one another, grew more and more distracting with each passing second, and she didn't know what to do. Restless and weak, Carol pushed herself away from the wall and moved towards the ladder that lead up to her bunk. With sweaty palms, she gripped the railing and hauled herself up into the small space. Flopping onto her back, she stared up at the grey ceiling and waited for her body to relax.

One hand was resting on her belly and she began drumming her fingers. Carol fidgeted, trying to get comfortable on the thin mattress. She'd worked up a bit of a sweat, out in the yard with Daryl, and she could feel the pillowcase sticking to the back of her neck. Sighing, she continued to wait. She started counting off the seconds in her head…

_one, two, three, four…._

But her body was still thrumming with trapped energy. Carol closed her eyes, hoping to find some peace within the privacy of her own mind. She just needed a few minutes alone...to breathe and refocus.

_twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…_

It wasn't working. When she closed her eyes, he was there…_waiting for her_. There was no soothing darkness to be found behind her lids…just him. He was staring down at her, as if she were still lying in the grass outside. His blue-grey eyes were narrowed; he was fixated on her. Carol's free hand was beginning to form a fist as she clutched the sheet underneath her. The look on his face made her feel weak. She couldn't recall a man ever having this effect on her; it was unnerving. Her legs were raised, bent at the knee, and the cell seemed to be shrinking around her. There wasn't enough space, her temperature was rising and her mouth had gone dry…but none of that mattered. The only thing that could hold her attention was the familiar face in her mind's eye. Carol studied his mouth, the mole near his lip, the tiny creases at the corners of his eyes, the locks of dark hair hanging in his face…the image was so startlingly vivid, _real_…she could even smell him…just the memory of his scent was enough to make her core hurt. She remembered the way it felt to have him looming over her…his weight resting over her pelvis and his strong legs trapping her on either side…her arms pinned above her head… It was all too much and Carol could feel herself losing the battle with what remained of her willpower.

With shaking hands, she reached for her belt and began to fumble with the buckle. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to lose the image she had in her mind. Once the belt was unfastened, she made quick work of the button on her pants, and then the zipper. She was nervous; her heart beating so fast that it almost made her feel sick, but she couldn't stop…Carol needed an outlet. She used both hands to clutch her waist band and push the pants down past her hips. When she felt the air hit the skin of her thighs, goose bumps rose on her legs. She couldn't bring herself to slide her cotton panties down, but one hand was resting on her lower belly…dangerously close to her panty line. Carol could feel sweat breaking out under her clothes and she wondered if she was doing something wrong.

_I shouldn't…Someone could see me…hear me…_

She suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that she shared a cell block with a fairly decent number of fellow survivors. But every cell in her body was screaming for release and the pain in her core was getting worse. She quickly began rationalizing with herself…or trying to….

_They're all outside…Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie…and Herschel has a group in the library…_

Her hand slid cautiously under the thin fabric of her panties and the instant her fingertips brushed her clit, Carol groaned. She hadn't pleasured herself in so long…not since before the turn, and even then…she was always so afraid that Ed would catch her. He'd worked hard, with his fists and his boots, to convince her that pleasure was wrong…that it was something she should feel guilty for. In all the years they'd spent as husband and wife, Ed never managed to give Carol an orgasm. In a moment of weakness, she'd purchased a vibrator. She might've been a mother and a battered wife, but she was still just a woman with basic needs. She spent so much of her adult life enduring senseless pain and emotional trauma, that she felt she deserved to feel something good…at least once in a while. Carol hid the vibrator, only daring to use it when she was absolutely sure her husband was far from home. But each time she gave in and sought release, she couldn't help but to feel guilty afterwards. It was always with trembling hands and a pounding heart that she took care of her needs. And now, in the privacy of her cell, Carol found that she was still plagued by feelings of terrible guilt. Her palms were sweaty and her breathing was shallow. Her eyes were still closed and the only thing that brought her any sort of comfort was the familiar face lingering in her imagination. She held onto the image…a face she'd seen a thousand times. As she memorized his features, Carol's hands stopped shaking. She let go of the fears and doubts that had been warring inside her. All that mattered was the man in her thoughts and the way he made her feel…_safe_…_alive_….

She imagined what it might be like to kiss him…to have his body so close to hers…her hands in his hair and his chapped lips pressing against hers…. As the pictures in her mind took on a life of their own, Carol's fingertips began to circle her clit. She was applying just enough pressure to stop the ache in her core and she could feel her walls opening. She arched her back, surrendering to the feelings that had taken hold of her. In her mind, Carol could still see him…he was looming over her…she thought about how it might feel if he were inside her…if he slipped into the heat between her legs and took what he wanted from her. She would let him have everything….

Carol's fingertips were moving faster and her hips were bucking weakly as she sought release. The cell had grown so warm, almost stiflingly so, and her teeth were sinking into her bottom lip. She arched her back again, trying to imagine the feeling of his manhood inside her walls. Sweat was forming at the backs of her knees and she could feel her entire body tensing. She wanted him….wanted _this_… and in the safety of her mind, she could have him. "_Yes_…" she breathed. "_Yes_…." She was spurring him on, urging her fictional partner to drive her closer and closer to orgasm. Just as she was about to let his name fall from her lips, something made Carol freeze. The motion of her hand stopped and her eyes flew open. The sound of footsteps was echoing outside on the walkway. Working to slow her breathing, Carol withdrew her hand and quickly pulled her pants up. She was hurrying to get the zipper up and the belt fastened. As the footsteps grew louder, a familiar voice reached her ears….

_Beth_…

Carol breathed a heavy sigh of relief and let her eyes close.

_At least it's not him…_

She licked her dry lips and waited for her heart rate to slow.

"Carol? You there?" the young girl asked as she stood on the other side of the privacy sheet.

"Yeah. What did you need?"

"It's Judith. She's been fussy for the last hour or so and I can't get her to go down for her nap. I was hopin' you could help."

Carol sighed again and forced herself to sit up on the bunk. "Sure. I'll be there in a bit. Think I'm just gonna head to the showers for a minute, but I'll be back. Why don't you wait for me in the mess hall?"

"Alright. See ya down there." with that, Beth turned on her heel and made her way back down the metal stairs.

Carol ran a hand through her hair and shook her head, realizing that she was more frustrated now than she had been before her little daydream started.

_Fantastic_….

And to top it off, she would be dealing with a cranky child for the rest of the afternoon. Drawing on strength and restraint, she used the side ladder to climb down off her bunk.

_Maybe the interruption was a good thing…I don't have a right to think about him like that anyway._

Hoping to clear her head with a little cool water, Carol pushed her privacy sheet aside and made her way down to the showers.

The day had proven to be a long one…for just about everybody in the prison. When Carol left Daryl to deal with the small group of refugees, his mood had soured instantly. He didn't want to be around strangers, and he certainly didn't want to be bothered with the nagging thoughts that had plagued him ever since he straddled Carol, pinning her to the ground. His brief demonstration with her left the hunter teeming with trapped energy…aggression that he desperately needed to unleash on something or someone. So he stormed across the yard, with his charges following close behind. When they reached the fences, Daryl didn't waste any time.

He glared at the refugees and barked at them to pay attention. He'd pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt and thrust the weapon into the skull of the nearest corpse. The adrenaline that coursed through him, when he felt the bone and brain tissue give way under the impact of the blade, seemed to help, but only slightly. He snarled as he wrenched the weapon free and watched the walker crumble to the ground. His chest was heaving and he was gripping the knife so tightly that his palm hurt. He'd glanced over his shoulder, eyeing his charges, and telling them what to do.

"When you're up here, clearin' these bastards…don't hesitate, 'n don't waste time over thinkin' it. They ain't people…'n this ain't optional. _Everyone_ works the fence. Ya do it quick, 'n ya move on. We gotta keep these assholes from pilin' up, or else the fence is gonna go down. If that happens, ya'll best learn to fight real quick. Got me?" He studied them with narrowed eyes and waited for a response.

There were a few nods and some hushed murmurings as the refugees stared at their instructor. No one offered up an argument.

"Use a knife, a crow bar, hell…." He raised one arm for emphasis and then let it drop to his side. "Use a goddamn sharp stick if that's all ya got. But make sure you got somethin' in your hand when your ass is down here. Now c'mon. I ain't spendin' my whole damn day out here." He turned his head to spit before pointing at the fence.

The very nervous refugees swallowed hard and slowly crept closer to the fence. Daryl watched as they lifted weapons with shaking hands and made feeble attempts to stab walkers. The whole thing only added to his frustration. He wasn't a teacher, and he sure as hell wasn't a babysitter. He had no intention of standing idle while the newcomers worked the fence. Instead, he squared his shoulders and lunged forward, driving his blade into another corpse. Daryl shuddered, savoring the satisfaction that came with making another kill. Following his own advice, he worked quickly, slipping the blade free and moving on to the next walker. He was relentless as he moved along the fence, killing one monster after another. His teeth were clenched and his muscles tensed each time the knife found its mark…the cool metal sinking into wasted flesh, cutting through bone and tissue with ease. He could feel the sweat trickling down his spine, his _arms_…but it didn't matter. Daryl was lost in blood lust and all he wanted was to destroy anything that came near him. So he stabbed, cut and tore at the corpses, driving the shining point of the blade into sunken eye sockets and grey, rotting temples… Drops of sweat fell from the ends of his hair as he moved with speed and aggression that seemed to unnerve those around him. Spittle flew from his lips when he snarled at the walkers. Blood was rushing in his ears and everything he saw was red. He lashed out, again and again, pushing the knife into bloated corpses. Each time he jerked his weapon free, flecks of dark blood would follow, splattering his shirt, his _neck_…He wasn't sure when the blade began to grow slick in his palm. It wasn't until someone called to him…the sound ringing in his ears, that he stopped and stared down at his hand. The blade was glistening red in the afternoon light…thick droplets falling from the sharp edge. There was so much blood that the sticky liquid covered his hand and his wrist. Daryl's breathing was ragged and he realized that he was still clutching the knife so tightly that his knuckles were white… He took a shaky step back from the fence and looked to the right. He could see a line of fallen corpses that he'd left in his wake, and he wondered how long he'd been lost in his own head. The voice reached him again, breaking his trance.

"Daryl?" Tyreese called out. "You alright?"

The hunter swallowed hard, blinking a few times. "I'm fine." he managed.

Tyreese glanced at his fellow refugees before refocusing on Daryl. "You sure?"

Daryl flicked his wrist, shaking some of the blood and bits of flesh from his weapon. "Yeah. Just think I need some water. I'm gonna head in; ya'll stay out here till ya clear this section."

The newcomers all watched him as he made his way across the yard and headed towards the prison. Each of them wondered what had gotten into the usually sullen hunter, but they were all too afraid to voice their opinions.

Daryl was equally confused, and even a little disturbed by his actions. Once he reached the prison and washed up, he spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning weapons. He needed something to take his mind off of the refugees, the fence, and Carol. Whenever unwelcome thoughts began creeping into his mind, he simply grabbed another rifle from the group's crude armory and sat down at a table with fresh rags.

By the time his watch shift was over that evening, Daryl was ready to drop. He stood outside Carol's cell and cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

"Yep." she called back.

He pushed the sheet aside and stepped into the cell. Carol was already curled on the top bunk; he suspected she'd had a long day too. "Tired?" he asked as he shrugged of his vest, letting it hit the floor.

She chuckled softly. "A little. You?"

He snorted and began working at the buttons on his shirt. "Tired ain't the word for it. That was a long ass day."

Carol propped herself up on one elbow as she stared at him. He stood with his back to her and worked the sleeveless shirt off his shoulders. The lighting in their cell was dim; all they had was a gas lantern sitting on an end table. But even in the gloom, Carol found herself mesmerized by the sight of his bare flesh. His back was marked with deep scars, jagged, angry lines that she knew must've been made over time by some relentless abuser. But it wasn't the raised flesh and deep gouges that held her attention, it was the man underneath. She marveled at the fact that he felt comfortable enough to take his shirt off while she was in the cell. "Wh…what are you doing?" she asked softly.

He tossed his shirt across the room and it landed in the laundry bin. Carol's question made him stop and glance over his shoulder. "I been told I gotta take better care of my clothes." His eyes were narrowed and there was a small smirk on his mouth.

Carol shook her head, laughing. "I didn't think you'd listen."

He snorted, running a hand through his hair as he turned around and faced her. "Ain't like I got much of a choice. Figured if I tried to sleep in that thing your scrawny ass would be down here tryin' to pull it off of me."

She felt herself blush. "Quit."

He gave her another smirk before he collapsed onto the bottom bunk and lay on his stomach.

"If I remember correctly, it was _my_ scrawny ass that got you on the ground earlier." she quipped.

He groaned, rolling onto his back and staring at the bunk above him. "Ya got lucky."

"I don't think luck had anything to do with it. You went down pretty quick." she was chuckling again.

Daryl huffed as he slid under the thin sheet. "It wasn't just _my_ ass on the ground…you went down too."

"That was different." she said, the blush spreading across her face. "You caught me off guard."

"Well ya best pay attention next time." he said

She laughed again, snuggling down into her pillow. "I'll try. Goodnight Daryl."

He adjusted the pillow under his head and finally let his eyes close. "Night." The hunter wanted nothing more than to put the whole day behind him. The flimsy mattress felt good underneath him and he was sinking slowly into the shadowy world of sleep. But that night, the _third_ night of their new living arrangement, Daryl found himself lost in a dream that he didn't want to wake from.

_"What are ya doin?" he asked._

_She smirked at him as she pushed him back into the nearest wall. "Whatever I want." she said._

_He wanted to say something…he thought he should at least try to stop her, but she silenced him with her lips. He was powerless against her. She kissed him, long and hard, her tongue slipping under his. Daryl could feel his body reacting and he started to get nervous. She tasted so good and she was so close to him…her body up against his. Unable to stop himself, he reached for her waist, gripping her tight. She kept kissing him, her hands clutching at the front of his shirt while she moaned into his mouth. That was all it took…her sweet, wet mouth, and that deep moan that seemed to come from her chest. Daryl felt himself get hard and the kissing only made it worse. His hands moved from her waist to her ass where he squeezed the flesh; he used his grip on her body to keep her flush against him. She seemed to like it. Their kisses intensified as her hands slipped down between them, going to his belt. He growled against her lips but made no moves to stop her. "It's okay," she whispered, taking a moment to suck his bottom lip. "Let me do this."_

_All he could do was nod as she worked on his belt. His hands were still massaging her ass and he could feel himself going rigid…his hard-on straining against his pants. He gasped when he felt the zipper being tugged down and then she was biting her lip, smirking at him in the dark. Without warning, she reached into his boxers and gripped his length._

_"Christ!" he hissed, slamming his eyes shut._

_She squeezed him, running her thumb over the tip. She could feel the drops of moisture there and she leaned in close, whispering to him. "Seems like you want me to keep going…"_

_He swallowed hard, nodding, his eyes still closed._

_"Just relax." she said softly as she ran her hand up and down his cock, applying just the right amount of pressure._

_The hunter's mouth had gone dry and his mind was racing. Her hand was so soft and she was moving it so slowly, almost torturing him. "M…More…" he stammered._

_She smirked, tightening her grip on his shaft._

_"Fuck…" he breathed._

_"I said relax…" she reminded him as she stroked his member one more time before letting go._

_The loss of her touch was terrible and it was all Daryl could do to wait her out. He felt sweat pooling at his temples and he kept his eyes closed…his chest was beginning to heave with every breath._

_In the next instant, her hands were gripping his waist band. She gave a good tug and pulled his boxers down along with his pants. His cock was suddenly free and aching to be touched. He didn't know what was happening but he knew that he needed her to touch him. She kept pushing the fabric down his legs until he finally stepped out of the pants and boxers. She tossed the clothes aside and then leaned into his space again, catching his mouth with hers. He was hungry for her, sucking at her tongue and biting her lips…his hands were back on her ass, massaging her. She was moaning again; she could feel his erection against her belly. The soft sound of their groans filled the cell and the two were lost in one another. Finally, she placed a hand on his chest and eased them apart. He was breathing hard and didn't understand why the kissing had stopped. But she just smiled at him and used her free hand to brush some of the hair back from his brow. "Let me do this." she whispered._

_The hunter was confused. The blood had long since rushed away from his brain. His eyes were locked on hers but she moved, breaking the trance. Daryl watched in amazement as she took a step back from him and then slowly sank to her knees. He felt his heart beating at an alarming rate as he stared down at her. "Wh…what are…" but she didn't let him finish the thought. In one swift move, she reached for his member, gripping it tight and holding it in place as she brought her mouth to the tip. Her tongue flicked out, warm and wet against the head of his cock and Daryl swore. A violent shiver worked its way up his spine and he had to fight to keep from bucking his hips. Her fingers were wrapped around his shaft and she was staring up at him through the gloom. _

_"Relax," she whispered, her warm breath hitting his cock._

_He shivered again but managed a nod. She was inching closer to him, her grip secure. She licked him lightly, enjoying the way he trembled afterwards. "This is all about you…" she breathed before taking him into her mouth._

_"Christ!" he moaned; he couldn't stop his hips from bucking this time, but she didn't seem to mind. The pressure from her mouth was incredible as she began to suck and Daryl knew this wouldn't last long. He bucked, pushing himself into her mouth, and she took him willingly. Her soft, wet tongue felt amazing on the underside of his shaft and he could already feel himself coming undone. "Car….I'm….I'm gonna…" he panted._

_She pulled away from him and stared up into his eyes, her hand still wrapped around the base of his cock. "What? I thought this was what you wanted?" She kissed the tip and continued to stare up at him. "I thought you wanted me to go down…" she was smirking at him while she ran her hand along his shaft._

_It was then that something seemed to click in the hunter's mind. There was something wrong…something about the words she'd just used…he didn't know what it was, but it worried him. A sense of panic filled him and just as she moved to take him back into her mouth…everything disappeared._

"Fuckin' christ!" Daryl growled, sitting up suddenly. His hands went to his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. After his breathing had slowed a bit, he became painfully aware of his erection. "The hell?" he sat, disoriented in the dark, and tried to puzzle out why he'd woken up with a hard-on in the middle of the night. Daryl hadn't dealt with this sort of thing since he was a teenager. And at least back then, he'd had the luxury of privacy in his own shitty bedroom. But he knew, in his current state, that he'd never make it out onto the walkway, all the way down the stairs and through the pitch black prison to the shower room…he had to take care of it in the cell. Grumbling and wincing, the hunter did his best to slide off the bunk and make his way towards the far corner where his belonging were stacked. As quietly as he could, Daryl searched through his bags until he found what he needed. He cast a nervous glance at the top bunk, but there was no movement; Carol was dead asleep.

Creeping back into his own bunk, Daryl eased under the thin sheet and let his head fall back against the pillow. His heart was beating hard and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so nervous, but he knew his problem wasn't going to resolve itself. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, hoping to get himself under control. But the moment he inhaled, the scent from the pillow seemed to surround him and it made his cock throb. "_Lord_…" he whined softly, hoping like hell that she couldn't hear him. He couldn't wait anymore. He fumbled with his zipper and quickly pushed his pants down. The instant Daryl's hand wrapped around his member, he shuddered. The tip of his cock was already dripping and his hips bucked weakly under the sheet. His lips were parted and his breaths were shallow as he began to stroke himself. As his calloused hand moved up and down his length, the hunter's reservations began to fade. He seemed to forget where he was; all that mattered was the incredible pressure that he didn't realize he'd missed since the world went to hell. His breathing picked up and he tugged at his cock, seeking the release he needed. Muffled groans and whines were escaping him and he started moving his hand faster, working himself up and down. Daryl was nearing the edge; his swollen member was jerking and leaking as he stroked it. The scent from the pillow was making him harder and he clenched his teeth, increasing the speed of his hand. His toes were curling and all he wanted was to come. Using his hand to create the friction he needed, the hunter turned his head, growling into his pillow. He worked harder, tugging at his cock and letting the soft scent from the pillow cloud his judgment. His hips continued to buck, making the bunk creak underneath him, but he didn't care. _He just needed to finish_. Losing himself in lust, Daryl threw the sheet back, exposing his lower half. He could feel it…the familiar rush… Everything seemed to slow to a drag; his lids were heavy and his mouth was open as he gave himself a few final strokes, in rapid succession, and felt the orgasm spilling from his cock. He bucked his hips, riding out the pleasure, and continued to run his hand along his shaft, milking himself.

As he lay throbbing in the blissful aftermath of orgasm, Daryl felt the sweat beginning to dry on his body. He swallowed hard and fumbled in the dark, reaching for the rag he'd found in his ruck sack. Still panting, he propped himself up on his elbows and carefully cleaned up the mess he'd made on his lower belly. After he'd hidden the rag under the bunk, he flopped onto his back and sighed, his eyes closing. His mind was hazy and the dream started to come back to him in bits and pieces. He remembered a familiar voice…_Carol's voice_…and she'd sunk to her knees in front of him…whispering something, but Daryl was too tired to analyze all of it. All he knew was that he felt better than he had in a long time. He was too tired to even pull his pants back up; he managed to grab the sheet, covering himself, but sleep claimed him before he could do anything else.

Carol was lying on her back and staring at the grey ceiling. Her hands were resting on her stomach and she was completely still, almost frozen. The weak light of dawn was filtering into the prison, but the majority of its occupants were still asleep. She'd been staring at the same spot on the ceiling for what seemed like hours. She was afraid to move...to make a sound. She had no idea what she was going to say to him when he woke up…if she even said anything at all. She heard him…she heard _everything_….

The cell was fairly small and sound tended to echo, bouncing off the concrete walls. It started out as soft whimpering during the night. She'd woken from her sleep and heard his muffled sounds from the bottom bunk. At first, she thought he was having a bad dream, but then he swore… She'd lain still in her own bunk, agonizing over whether or not to wake him. She heard him cursing in his sleep and she nearly climbed down the ladder to see if he was alright, but then he moaned. She heard Daryl Dixon moan and the sound made her core hurt. In an instant, she realized that whatever dream he was having…he probably didn't want to be woken from it. A hot flush had spread across her cheeks and she was forced to lie still above him. He was so reluctant to engage in any sort of physical contact with others that the thought of him having normal, sexual urges was incredibly startling and intriguing. So she did the only thing she could….she listened. She could hear his ragged breathing, his soft groans, and the way he mumbled things under his breath. Carol knew it was wrong; she shouldn't be listening, but it wasn't as if she had many options. She wasn't about to wake him up and risk embarrassment that neither of them would ever recover from. And even though she hated to admit it…it was sexy. She was physically frustrated, and if listening to him get off was as close as she could come to actual release, then she would take it. She had to control her breathing and it was taking absolutely all of her will power to keep her hands away from her waist band. It was bad enough that she was listening to him…she wasn't going to add to her own guilt by touching herself.

But then something changed. She heard the bunk creak as he sat up. He was muttering to himself and swearing softly. Carol couldn't help but wonder if it was for the best. All of his sounds were making her restless and she needed to get back to sleep. She swallowed hard and rolled onto her side as quietly as she could. She really was making a valiant effort to relax and get back to sleep, but then she heard him leaving his bunk and he was padding across the cell, rifling through his things. Carol's brows knit together as she stared at the wall and wondered what the hell he was doing. The bottom bunk creaked again and she heard the rustling of sheets as he worked to get comfortable.

_Good…he's going back to bed…maybe that'll be the end of it_

But it wasn't the end. She heard the tiny, metal teeth of his zipper separating and her core grew painfully tight. Her lips parted in awe and her heart was thrumming in her chest.

_That's it…I need to let him know I'm awake..I can't just let him…_

"_Lord_…" Daryl whined.

Carol had to bite her knuckle to keep from groaning right along with him. She tried to stay calm and focus on the grey wall, but her body was reacting to the sounds coming from the bottom bunk. She could hear grunts and growls escaping him, in a continuous pattern, and that's when she knew what he was doing. His bunk was creaking and she marveled at the fact that he'd become so completely engrossed in whatever it was that had taken hold of him. Suddenly, she found herself eagerly awaiting his climax. She wanted to hear him finish. Knowing that he was underneath her…touching himself, was almost too much to bear. Carol was tempted to slip her hand down into her panties, but she held herself back. One knuckle was still caught between her teeth and her other hand was clutching desperately at the sheet beneath her.

_Don't move…if you move, he'll hear you…_

She listened to the voice in her head and remained still, enjoying the sounds of his pleasure. She heard every moan, every _curse_ that slipped from between his lips…every _creak_ of his bunk…_every_ strained breath…. Her body was nearly vibrating with want as she listened. Carol could hear him losing control. There was more creaking, panting and whining…he seemed to be moving faster. She was silently mouthing _'yes'_ into her pillow and she wished she had the courage to say it out loud…to let him know that she was awake, alive, and more than willing to help with any needs he might have. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, she heard Daryl release a long, groan of satisfaction…and then the creaking stopped. The cell was filled with the sound of his panting and Carol was having trouble accepting the fact that he'd reached his peak…right below her. In all her years, she was sure that nothing had ever aroused her more than the sound of Daryl Dixon pleasuring himself in their cell. She knew, in that moment, that she would have to make time for herself. She couldn't continue to live with him, in such a small space, without relieving some of her own tension. She just wasn't sure when she would have the opportunity.

Finding a time and a place to take care of herself was just one of the many thoughts that had been crowding Carol's mind all night. She was never able to get back to sleep after Daryl's…incident. So now she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.

_What the hell do I say to him?_

She knew Daryl. He would be mortified if he knew that she'd heard him.

_Maybe I should just pretend it never happened. Just move on…_

The thought was tempting but Carol had her doubts.

_What if it happens again? What if it keeps happening? I can't just spend my nights laying awake, listening to him jack off…_

She drummed her fingers on her stomach, wishing that the rest of the cell block would wake up.

_I can take late watch…_

But that wouldn't work either. Carol had too many other responsibilities. She could take night watch occasionally, but not every night…she had things that she needed to take care of during the day and she would be useless if she couldn't sleep.

_I could tell him that it's not working…that he needs to find another cell…_

Carol frowned at the ceiling. The only thing harder than sharing with him would be watching him leave. Frustrated, and out of answers…she fell back on the saving grace of every wishful thinker…

_Maybe it was a fluke and the whole thing will just work itself out. I'm reading too much into this…everyone has those kinds of dreams once in a while…_

As she lay there, re-hashing the evening's events in her mind, Carol couldn't help but wonder who'd been starring in Daryl's dream. The man was so closed-off…so _secretive_, that it was difficult for her to imagine him developing a physical attraction to anyone. For one foolish second, she entertained the possibility that it had been her… She figured it wasn't likely, but it wasn't entirely absurd either. They shared a small space and spent a fair amount of their free time together…she supposed there was a slim chance that it could've been her…but then she snorted, shaking her head.

_Right_.

A chuckle escaped her and she brought one hand up to cup her forehead.

_This is why you need sleep…_

She sighed, dismissing the ridiculous thoughts. Sensing that the best course of action would be to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place, Carol decided to quit agonizing over the whole thing and just start her day. She sat up, stretched, and ran her hands through her mussed hair as she yawned.

_Just forget about it…at least for now._

Her limbs were stiff and aching as she made her way to the ladder and climbed down. With her foot on the last rung, she paused and looked at her sleeping cellmate. He was on his side, the sheet tangled around his waist. She smiled at the look on his face…the look of someone who'd slept well and didn't plan to wake up anytime soon. His dark, messy hair was sticking up in every direction and he seemed so peaceful. There was something cute about seeing him in that small bunk, with a pillow tucked under his head. She glanced at the dusting of hair on his chest and the tattoo above his heart. Her eyes roamed from his shoulder, down along his side…and then the white sheet was hiding the rest of him. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get herself to focus.

_Leave him be._

Giving his sleeping form one last, lingering look, Carol made a decision. She could handle it. If this was her view every morning…if she had a second to see him like that, sound asleep and content at the start of each new day, she could find a way to deal with whatever transpired at night. With her mind made up, she stepped down off the ladder and stretched her arms above her head. She needed some time, away from the cell and away from Daryl. But first, she needed to change. Her sleep shirt was rumpled, stained, and she was wearing a pair of sweatpants that were too big for her. She pressed her hands into her lower back, rubbing the aching muscles and then moved towards the far wall where her bags were arranged.

Daryl heard her when she started climbing down the ladder. His eyes eased open and he blinked against the invading light. He still wasn't sure about what happened the night before but he sure as hell wasn't ready for human interaction just yet. So he closed his eyes again and pretended to be asleep just to avoid conversation. He'd never been much of a people person and being woken up at the crack of dawn wasn't helping matters. He tried to keep his breathing slow and even, to convince her that he was asleep, and the charade seemed to work. She stepped off the ladder without so much as a word. As he lay in his bunk, Daryl wondered how hard it would be to go back to sleep; given the previous day's frustrations, he wasn't eager to leave his bed. He heard Carol moving around, searching through her belongings.

With his eyes closed and the warmth of the bunk surrounding him, the hunter was ready to let sleep take him again…but then he heard the rustling of clothes. He swallowed hard and felt his muscles tensing. Carol was grunting softly and Daryl couldn't help himself; he had to see. He slowly, cautiously opened his eyes and found himself staring at her back. She was standing in the center of the cell, pulling an oversized sleep-shirt over her head. He stared at the creamy, pale skin that was now on display for him and noticed that there was no bra strap across her back.

_She don't wear one to bed?_

That thought was intriguing and Daryl found that he was suddenly very awake. He watched through narrowed eyes as she bent over to pick something up off the ground. Even with those pants, he could tell she had a good ass. He bit his lip, forcing himself to keep quiet. When she stood back up, she was slipping on a bra. He watched her hands as she struggled to fasten the clasp behind her back.

_Fuckin' quit…ya got no right to look at her while she's changin'…_

But the words weren't enough to make him close his eyes. When she'd finished with the clasp, her hands moved to her waist band. Before she could even push the sweats down, he felt blood rushing to his cock.

_Fuck_…

All he could do was stare as she pushed the pants down, past her hips, lower, down her thighs…even lower, until she was stepping out of them. He bit his lip harder as his member continued to swell. He wanted to tell her to stop…or make himself quit looking, but he couldn't. Daryl found that in this area, he was weak-willed; there was nothing he could do or say without upsetting her. So he lay still, scarcely daring to breathe. Carol kicked the sweat pants aside and then she was bending over again. The hunter's teeth sank into his lip so hard he could taste blood. His eyes were trained on her ass…on her panties, and the firm flesh they were hiding. He wanted to reach out and touch her, grab her…but he knew he couldn't. He eyed her long, tone legs…from her feet, up to her perfect calves, higher, to the backs of her pale thighs and then to that tight ass. As he lay there suffering, Daryl couldn't help but wonder where that body had come from…

_She just been hidin' it all this time?_

He blinked when he saw her pulling the cargo pants up her legs. They were the same olive-green ones that she always wore, but Daryl had a new appreciation for them. He watched her as she shimmied her way into the pants…they seemed to fit her just right, they might've even been a little snug, but Daryl didn't mind. He loved the way her ass looked in them and it was hard to believe that the day before, he'd had _that_ ass, in _those_ pants, pressed up against him as they taught their self-defense class. His erection was getting painful and he suddenly realized that he'd failed to pull his own pants up after his moment of weakness the night before.

The pants were low on his hips, where he'd left them, and his hard-on would be glaringly obvious, beneath the sheet, if Carol happened to turn around. Silently cursing himself, his own stupidity, and Carol, he rolled carefully onto his stomach, smothering his need.

Carol heard him moving and quickly pulled a shirt over her head before turning to face him. "You up?" she asked softly as she grabbed her belt and worked it through the loops.

Daryl's growls of frustration were muffled by his pillow. He didn't find the irony of her question amusing. "I am now." he said. It was uncomfortable to lie there with his arousal pressed down against the bunk, but he knew that his pain was the price he paid for leering at her like a pervert.

Carol did her best to smooth her hair and then moved towards their privacy curtain. "I'm gonna get cleaned up and then see about breakfast. Want me to bring you something?"

He sighed into his pillow and refused to look at her. "I'm good. You go on."

"Alright," she said. "As long as you're sure." With that, she pushed the hanging sheet aside and disappeared out onto the walkway.

When the sound of her footsteps began to fade, Daryl rolled onto his back and sighed. He reached up, running his hands over his face in exasperation. His fingers went back, into his long hair and he tugged weakly.

_The hell is wrong with you? That woman ain't done nothin' but treat ya right…she gave up her damn bunk for your sorry ass and you think you're gonna lie in bed starin' at her while she changes? Can't let that shit happen again. It ain't right. Carol don't need that._

The hunter was used to this sort of thing…internal arguments with the angry voice in his head. He'd spent most of his life being chided, yelled at, _punished_, scolded, and beaten… As a child, it seemed like anything Daryl did resulted in a belt across his back or a boot in his ribs. He'd been taught to believe that he deserved every stripe and every bruise. He knew that things were different now…he had a family…. a _purpose_…people depended on him…they _trusted_ him. But there were still times when the hunter felt like the same scared, sniveling little boy who sat shaking on the floor…his eyes slammed shut as he braced himself for the bite of leather across his back. Like Carol, he had a strong sense of guilt and shame when it came to things that brought him any sort of pleasure or happiness.

As he lay in the bunk, struggling mentally and physically, Daryl suddenly seemed to remember what started all this….

_The damn dream…_

Just the memory of her, kneeling in front of him, was enough to make the hunter shiver. And the way she'd used her mouth…

_Fuck…_

Daryl tugged sharply at his hair.

_It ain't right….it ain't…._

He didn't know why this was happening to him. He'd gone so long without needing any sort of physical release and now he was in too much pain to even leave his bunk. Daryl was still struggling to process the fact that he'd dreamt about her like that…and that just seeing her change clothes had such an intense, immediate effect on him. They'd known each other since the beginning…since Atlanta fell… He couldn't understand why she was suddenly appearing in his dreams, or why her body was suddenly fascinating. He found himself thinking about her ass again and his cock throbbed. Daryl swore under his breath as one hand went down to wrap around his member. As soon as he applied pressure, his eyes closed and his head went back into the pillow. He knew it was wrong…but he didn't have a choice. His body was demanding attention and he just wanted the pain to go away. The hunter slowly began stroking his length, under the sheet, and his hazy mind produced an answer to the problem….

_Just stay away from her…_

As his calloused hand continued to move, making his breath catch, Daryl made a silent vow. He would do everything in his power to avoid her, at least until he could get himself under control. He would avoid eye contact, physical contact, and take watch shifts when he knew she'd be sleeping. Daryl gripped himself tighter and grunted.

_Just…leave her be…keep that woman outta your head…._

He knew that part would be easier said than done, especially since he was picturing her as he lay there…He was thinking about those long legs of hers and how they might feel if they were wrapped around his waist.

_This is the last time…ya can't be thinkin' about her like this…_

So he kept his eyes closed and focused on the pictures in his head, knowing that once he finished, he needed to put the whole thing to bed.

_No more…this is the last time…._

Daryl was doing his absolute best to keep the promise he'd made to himself. It was the seventh day of their new living arrangement and he'd been running himself ragged. He took on extra responsibilities whenever he could…late watch shifts, weapons training, fence duty, even laundry when he got desperate enough. He just needed to stay away from her.

If Carol knew that he was purposely avoiding her, she didn't let on. Whenever their paths happened to cross, she treated him just as she always had. She was kind, patient, focused on her work. He tried to limit their interaction as much as possible. He'd offer a nod in place of a standard greeting, and he fumbled with flimsy excuses whenever she tried to engage him in conversation. But Carol didn't question his actions, and for that, he was grateful.

Despite Daryl's valiant efforts to keep himself distracted and distance himself from Carol, she still managed to appear in his dreams…._every_ night. The first dream…the one where she knelt in front of him, seemed almost tame now. There had been three more since then…each one more graphic than the last… The hunter was sitting on the edge of his bunk, sighing, as he recalled the dream he'd had last night. She was on top of him, clawing his chest…her hips moving against his as she urged him to come… Daryl had woken up suddenly, after hitting his peak, and was left with the unpleasant task of cleaning up another mess… He ran a hand through his hair and marveled at the fact that he hadn't woken her, even when he smacked his head on the bottom of her bunk.

_It ain't workin'…._

His hands were gripping the edge of the bunk as he tried to determine his next move.

_Ya gotta leave…_

He didn't like that option; he'd been avoiding it for the last few days. Daryl knew that if he moved out of their cell, it would hurt her…she wouldn't understand. But it seemed like relocating was the only choice he had left. So he sat on the bunk, his head hanging low, and waited on her to get back from her watch shift. He was going to make himself talk to her. But nerves were getting the best of him. He brought his elbows to rest on his knees; his hands were clasped and one of his legs was shaking a little. He felt restless, anxious, and wondered what he was going to say to her when she showed up.

Carol wasn't sure what changed between them. Ever since the night she'd heard Daryl touching himself, the man was a ghost. His watch schedule changed and he hardly spoke two words to her during the day. He didn't seem angry, but something was definitely wrong. Anytime she came to the cell, he was on his way out. He took meals during his watch shifts, opting to eat alone instead of joining the others for dinner as was the custom for most of the survivors. He'd done a few more self-defense demonstrations, but each time Rick asked her to help, she kindly said no, assuring their leader that Daryl could handle the refugees on his own. Carol was smart enough to know when the hunter needed space and she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

As she made her way up the metal stairs, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd done something to upset him…without realizing. She knew he wasn't the type to share a small space with anyone for very long, and all things considered, she figured he was doing as well as could be expected. Carol wanted him to know that he wasn't just a guest…it was his cell too. He could come and go as he pleased and she had no intention of getting in the way. In the spirit of friendship, and acceptance of each other's quirks, she'd snagged something from one of the refugees, hoping to ease some of the tension that had formed between her and her cellmate.

Carol stood outside their cell and called out softly, as she always did before entering. "Hey? Can I come in? Are you decent?" she smiled, hoping that her tone would let him know she was only teasing.

Daryl cleared his throat before answering. "I'm good. C'mon."

She pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the cell, letting the sheet fall behind her. She saw that he was sitting on the edge of his bunk, his hands clasped under his chin, and he looked strangely uncomfortable…nervous even. Her brows knit together. "You okay?" she asked.

He swallowed hard and managed a nod. "Jus'…got somethin' on my mind."

She waited, thinking he might elaborate…but he didn't. It was getting late, most of the survivors were turning in for the night. She glanced at the end table and saw that Daryl had turned up the gas lamp, giving their cell a warm glow. "Well, I'm sure whatever it is…you'll work it out. Don't let it get to you." she said.

Daryl eyed her; she was still standing in the center of the cell, and her hands were hidden behind her back.

"Wasn't sure I'd catch you." said Carol, as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "You don't have watch tonight?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nah…switched with Glenn…figured we should talk."

"Sure." she said. "What did you wanna talk about?" she was worried about where their conversation might be headed.

The hunter continued to rub his neck as he stared at her. Now that they were finally in the same space, he couldn't find the words. She'd opened her cell to him…made him feel welcome, and now he was going to throw it back in her face. Daryl gnawed his lip, unsure of how to tell her what he was thinking.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them and Carol could see the pained expression on his face. She swallowed hard, trying to remain calm, and then remembered the whole reason she'd wanted to catch him. "Hey…" she said, trying to sound optimistic.

He glanced up at her.

"I realized something today."

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's been seven days."

He stared at her, a crease forming in his brow.

"Since you moved in." she explained, a soft smile on her face. "We've been sharing the cell for a whole week now."

Some of his anxiety seemed to melt away as he studied the smile on her face. She wasn't angry with him. He should've known better; Carol was one of the easiest people to talk to and he knew that she would accept his decision if he chose to move out. He breathed a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair. "Guess we have."

She chuckled. "Bet you didn't think we'd make it seven days."

His elbows were resting on his knees again. "I had my doubts."

"Well," she added, taking a step towards him. "I think that sharing a cell with someone is no small feat, and I figure we've earned the right to celebrate a little." She pulled the bottle from behind her back and offered it to him. "Happy anniversary." she smirked.

Daryl's eyes flicked from her face, to the glass bottle she was handing him. "Bourbon?" he asked as he carefully took the bottle and studied the label.

She blushed a little and folded her arms across her chest. "I know it's been hard on you….sharing your space…and I just thought…it might be nice to unwind once in a while."

"Where'd ya get this?" he asked.

She sighed, sinking down onto the bunk to sit next to him. "Bob."

Daryl snorted. "Knew that asshole was a boozer."

She chuckled. "He'd been hanging onto it for a while and I guess he just didn't want the temptation any more…he's trying."

"Right." Daryl said, still eyeing the bottle in his lap. "Makes ya wonder what else he's got in his cell."

She sighed again and looked at him. "If you don't want it…I'm sure I can find someone to take it off our hands.."

He met her gaze. "I didn't say that…"

Carol smiled. "Well alright then. Get the stick out of your ass."

His lips parted in disbelief. "_I_ got a stick up my ass?"

She laughed. "Yes. You _do_. But I think this will help." she glanced at the bottle he was holding.

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "So if I had watch…it would just be your scrawny ass in here, drinkin' alone?"

She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks get warm. "I wasn't planning to get hammered, if that's what you're implying. But I don't see anything wrong with having a shot now and then."

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Think of it as….a housewarming gift." she said, smiling.

The hunter couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"So you gonna crack that open or did you just wanna read the label a few more times?" she asked.

He eyed her, "Rick's gonna be on our assess if we both got hangovers in the mornin'."

She ran her hands over her face and blinked. "No one's talking about getting wasted…Jesus. I just think we both do a lot around here, and we deserve a break every now and then. That's all."

Daryl continued to stare at her through narrowed eyes. "Why do I feel like I got the damn devil on my shoulder?"

Carol laughed. "Forget it. I'm not trying to pressure you. Hand it over." she gestured to the bottle.

He held up one hand, warding her off. "Hang on…" he said. With the tip of his tongue resting between his lips, Daryl unscrewed the lid. When he finally handed her the bottle, there was judgment in his eyes. "Go on then…"

She accepted the offering, her fingers curling anxiously around the neck of the bottle. Before her nerves could overtake her, Carol took a sip of the amber colored liquid and winced, her eyes slamming shut as she felt the liquor burning a hole in her chest. She covered her mouth and coughed as she handed the bottle back to him.

Daryl snorted, chuckling at her. "How was it?"

She blinked several times before meeting his gaze. "It's fine. I just haven't had a drink in a while." she coughed again.

"No shit." he said before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a pull. The liquor burned all the way down and he growled, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

"Guessing it's been a while for you too." she laughed.

He smirked and tried to remember the last time anything had tasted so good. The liquor was strong and seemed to go right to his head, but he liked the way it felt. "I'm just outta practice." he said. "First shot's always the worst…"

"Let's test that theory." she chuckled, reaching across him to grab the bottle. He grudgingly let her take it. When she took her second pull, Carol found that he'd been right….it didn't sting quite as much as the first, and she was actually able to enjoy the taste. She still coughed a little, much to Daryl's amusement, but she managed to hand the bottle back to him. "That was better." she laughed.

He took a quick swig and nodded. "Yeah…it was."

They both chuckled at that and Daryl leaned forward to set the bottle down on the floor. They sat quietly for a few moments, letting the liquor warm their blood. It was the hunter who finally spoke up. "Sure this ain't botherin' ya?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "I'm sure. I think we do a good job of staying out of each other's hair." Carol sighed, rubbing her neck. "You're easy to live with."

He glanced at her. They were sitting side by side on the edge of his bunk and their hips were touching. There was doubt etched into his features.

Carol met his gaze, hoping to make him understand that she meant what she'd said. "Really. You are." Without thinking, she let her hand rest on his knee.

He tensed slightly but didn't make her move. His eyes were trained on her hand and he was trying to figure out what to do about it. But in the next instant she was giving his knee a soft pat and withdrawing her hand. "Ya ain't sick of me yet?" he asked.

She chuckled and shook her head. "Why; are you sick of _me_?" she asked.

"Naw," he answered faster than he meant to, a blush forming on his cheeks. He hung his head, and focused on his scuffed boots.

The temperature in the cell seemed to be rising and Carol nudged his shoulder with hers. "Wanna hand me that?"

He followed her gaze and saw that the bottle was sitting idle on the floor, between their feet. "You ain't done yet?" he asked.

She laughed. "No."

He shook his head as he reached down and grabbed the bottle. "Fine." he sat back up and handed her the bourbon.

She giggled before taking another pull. The liquor was already beginning to cloud her judgment. She felt warm, light-headed, and everything seemed funny all of a sudden. When she pulled the bottle away from her lips, she smirked at Daryl. "I think you've got some catching up to do." she said.

He snatched the bottle back and eyed her. "Ain't nothin' good ever came from doin' shots of bourbon with a light-weight."

Her brows knit together and her lips parted in disbelief. "I'm a light-weight? How did you arrive at that conclusion?"

He chuckled and took a good swig. "Well first off, ya just about choked after that first shot…"

"So did you!" she argued.

He snorted, setting the bottle down again. "What do you weigh? Ninety pounds soakin' wet? That shit's gonna have you on your ass in a minute."

Carol couldn't help the laugh that burst from her lips, she leaned forward, cradling her head in her hands. "Ninety pounds? Really?"

Daryl ran a broad hand through his hair and chuckled.

_This was a bad idea…_

They were both laughing and she sat back up, wiping at the tears that had formed in the corner of her eyes. "God….maybe you're right." she sighed.

"Bout what?" he asked.

"I think I should've stopped after two shots." she sighed happily and leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder.

Daryl felt his heart rate speed up the moment she touched him. Normally, he'd push her away…distance himself, but right then…in the privacy of their cell, he found that he liked having her close. It felt nice to have her leaning against him. He could smell the soft scent of her hair and it was making his lids heavy.

Carol wasn't sure what she was doing; she knew that Daryl wasn't one for touching, but in her current state…she didn't care. Her head was swimming and she needed to lean on something…he was close, and warm…_safe_. The liquor seemed to be sloshing in her brain and suddenly she was flopping onto her back, giggling.

Daryl twisted his body and stared down at her. "Ya alright?"

Her face was flushed as she gazed up at him. "I'm great. You should join me."

For a moment, the hunter wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. But she was smiling at him…_waiting_ on him… Taking a deep breath, Daryl eased down onto his back and the two of them laid there…side by side, with their legs hanging off the edge of the bunk. Their hands were resting on their stomachs as they both stared at the underside of Carol's bunk.

After a few minutes of silence, Carol turned her head and looked at him.

"What?" he asked, staring back at her.

She smirked. "What's the hardest part of living with me?"

Daryl blinked, unsure of what to say.

"Come on," she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "I know this hasn't been a cake walk for you. You never wanted to sleep in a cage."

He sighed and continued staring at the underside of her bunk. "You're a nag."

She propped herself up on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

"About laundry." He explained. "And you're always on my ass about eatin'."

She huffed. "That's because if I didn't nag you, you wouldn't eat…and you'd be wearing the same filthy clothes that you've had since the turn…"

He couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. "Didn't hit a nerve did I?" he asked.

Carol reached over to swat his arm, making him laugh harder.

"Fine," said Daryl. "What's the hardest part about havin' me here?"

"Hang on…" she said as she sat up and leaned forward, grabbing the bottle from the floor. She took a quick pull before handing it to him. He took it from her and watched as she flopped onto her back again. Carol had one arm folded behind her head while the other was resting across her belly. Her mind was hazy and she was staring dreamily up at her bunk while a lazy smile spread across her face. "Your smell."

A deep crease formed in the hunter's brow. "I ain't that bad…" he huffed. Daryl propped himself up on his elbows and took another long pull from the bottle. When he was finished he mimicked Carol's actions…leaning forward to set the bottle down on the floor. He eased back down beside her and was prepared to offer up a better argument, but she didn't let him.

"No," she chuckled. "It's good…I like it."

He stared at the woman beside him, his eyes questioning her.

She turned her head to face him and they held each other's gazes. "I like the way you smell…but it's distracting." she giggled, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

Even with the alcohol impairing his judgment, Daryl was able to find logic in her words. He remembered the way it made him feel when he pulled the scent of his pillow into his lungs…when he brought the sheet to his nose and found that it smelled like her… He understood. The idea that she felt the same way he did…was difficult to process..and the bourbon certainly wasn't helping.

She was still looking at him, her blue eyes trained on his face. "Sometimes, it's hard to sleep…knowing you're here…" she said. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Carol wondered if she was saying too much…if she might be revealing something that should probably be kept secret…but the liquor had loosened her lips and reservations were fading quickly.

Daryl swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. "I…I can leave…" he offered.

But Carol reached for one of his hands and held it gently between her own. "Don't….please. I just…" she paused, licking her lips and searching for the right words. "I like having you here."

The hunter glanced down at the soft, pale hand that was now wrapped around his. When his eyes returned to her face, he felt his heart beat a little bit faster. "I don't want ya losin' sleep…" he growled softly.

She smiled at him. "I think the bourbon can help with that."

They both chuckled, neither of them realizing that she was still holding one of his hands. Their lids were heavy and their minds were wandering. "Can't have ya turnin' into a boozer." he said. "Drinkin' every night till ya can't see straight."

She laughed. "Fine. Then what would you suggest? As a healthy alternative?"

His thumb was absently rubbing her hand but neither of them seemed to mind. "For gettin' to sleep?" he asked.

She bit her lip and nodded, her blue eyes shining.

Daryl was staring up at her bunk, but his thoughts were elsewhere. If he were being honest with himself, the only thing that had helped him fall asleep the last few nights had been physical release. He couldn't very well admit that or tell Carol to do it…so he kept his mouth shut and tried to push the unwelcome thoughts from his head.

Carol was getting impatient. She rolled onto her side and stared at him. "Well?"

He glanced at her, and the smile on her face made him feel warm…or maybe it was just the bourbon. "Naw…" he muttered, hoping she would just let the whole thing go.

"Come on," she urged, squeezing his hand. "Just gimme the first thing that pops into your head…unless you want me to turn to alcohol…" she laughed.

He swallowed hard and tried to remember how many shots they'd had. Thoughts were spinning in his skull, gradually forming sentences…and then, before he could stop them, actual words were tripping off the end of his tongue. "If ya really wanna fall asleep quick…you could always…"

"What?" she asked, inching closer to him, her eyes bright and curious.

But the proximity was proving too much for him and he shook his head. "Nothin'. Never mind."

She was lying on her side, propped on one elbow as she stared down at him. Carol suddenly noticed the hint of color on his cheeks and her smile widened. "You're blushing…" she said.

He huffed, doing his best to focus on the underside of her bunk. "I'm not."

"You _are_." she insisted. "What were you going to tell me?"

Daryl could feel sweat forming at his temples and he was seriously regretting that first shot… "Nothin'. Just forget it."

"What on earth could possibly be bad enough to make Daryl Dixon blush?" she said, eyeing him.

He finally had to sit up; he needed to make her listen. Carol sat up when he did and they stared at one another. He wanted to get her to stop all this…the two of them should just put the bottle away and call it a night…but when he looked at her, Daryl lost his train of thought. She was sitting so close to him and the soft light from the lantern made her look like she was glowing. Her hair was a little mussed and her cheeks were flushed. There was a smirk on her mouth and her blue eyes were so vibrant. He noticed the low neckline of her shirt and could see the slight dip where her cleavage began. In that moment, Daryl found that he wanted her. He wanted to have her the way he did in his dreams. His eyes roamed from her chest, back up to her face.

Neither of them spoke…they were _transfixed_…suddenly mesmerized by one another and their mouths were going dry. Carol could hardly breathe. The way he was staring at her…it made her feel naked. The temperature in the cell was rising fast and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. But his blue-grey eyes were cutting into her, making her heart pound….and Carol couldn't take it anymore. She reached up, placing one hand on his chest, and used it to push him onto his back. She didn't give him a chance to say anything before she crawled over him…her body hovering above his. Their chests were heaving as they watched one another and his hands went to her hips, holding her in place. She was tempted to straddle him, but she worried that the contact might be too much. So she settled for looming over him as his hands moved along her sides. "What were you going to say?" she asked, the words coming out as breathy whispers.

Daryl's mind was fumbling for an answer…he couldn't quite grasp whatever had just taken place between them. Seconds ago…they were talking…but then she pushed him and now she was there…looking down at him. His hands had gone to her hips automatically and he had a good grip on her body. She was hovering over him, but he wanted her closer… He barely registered the fact that she'd asked him a question.

"What were you going to say?" she repeated.

The hunter could feel blood rushing to his groin. "Touch yourself." he growled. He hadn't meant to say the words out loud, but it was too late to take them back.

Carol stared at him in disbelief. "What?" she asked, breathless.

His hands were moving slowly along her sides and his eyes were trained on her face. "It'll help ya sleep." he growled.

Carol's palms were splaying on the bunk, on either side of his head and she was staring at him as if he were speaking another language.

Daryl needed more contact; he sat up and used his grip on Carol's body to keep her in his lap. Her legs wrapped around him instantly and her hands were clutching at his shoulders. Their breathing had picked and they were intently focused on one another. The feeling of her groin pressed against his was so wanted…so welcome, and Daryl had to fight to maintain control. He was still gripping her hips. As they sat, tangled together in his bunk, the hunter decided to let go. He was tired of hiding from her…avoiding her. He wanted to be close…to touch her and have her touch him. The bourbon was coursing through his veins, fueling his need for her and he just couldn't hide anymore. He licked his chapped lips and stared at her mouth. "If ya come…you'll fall asleep." he said, his voice like gravel.

Carol felt warmth hit her core the instant those words left his mouth. She rocked her hips gently, just to get a reaction out of him, and he tightened his grip on her body, his eyes narrowing. Her lips parted when she felt the stirring below his waist. She moved her hands into his long hair and pulled him closer to her. Their lips didn't meet, but Carol found that the anticipation was incredible. She combed her fingers through his hair and whispered to him. "Is that what works for you?"

Daryl was past the point of caring; he answered her without hesitation. "Yeah." He could feel his cock getting harder underneath her. He slipped his hands under her shirt and ran them up and down her sides, savoring the warm flesh. "I think about ya at night." he said.

Carol couldn't believe that any of this was actually happening. She rocked her hips again, loving the way he groaned in response. She couldn't help herself…that sexy sound reminded her of the night she'd lain awake listening to him….Carol pulled him closer and kissed his jaw. "Do you touch yourself?" she asked, before moving to his neck and sucking at the salty flesh she found there. "When you think about me?" She sucked his neck again and felt his manhood going rigid between her legs.

Daryl was breathing harder. His hands moved quickly, down along her sides, past her hips until he was clutching at her ass. He swallowed hard and managed a nod.

"I think about you too." she whispered as she gently sucked his ear lobe.

The hunter eased them apart so that he could look at her. Dark hair was hanging in his eyes as he stared at her from beneath his lashes.

She smirked at him and used one hand to push some of the hair back from his brow. Before he could stop himself, Daryl was speaking again. "I wanna watch ya." He gripped her shirt by the hem and started to pull it up.

Carol lifted her arms, helping him as he tore the shirt from her body and let it fall to the floor. "Watch me?" she asked, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him explain it anyway.

He swallowed hard, his hands going to her breasts. He squeezed her, making her whine. She rocked her hips against him and clawed at his shoulders. Carol had never experienced arousal like this…her entire body seemed to come to life when he touched her. "_Harder_.." she pleaded, her eyes closed and her head going back.

Daryl grunted, applying more pressure. He was massaging her breasts and hating the fact that her bra was in the way. "Get it off…" he growled.

Carol was nearly panting as she reached around to her back and fumbled with the clasp. The instant she felt the ends spring apart, she slipped the bra straps down her arms and let it drop. Daryl's hands finally cupped her bare flesh and they both groaned. His calloused palms surrounded her breasts and he squeezed them…softly at first, then harder as her hips continued to move against his. Her fingers were lost in his hair and she was resting her head in the crook of his neck. "_God_…" she whined.

Daryl loved the way she filled his palms…the soft, warm flesh felt so good in his hands and every time he squeezed her, she gasped. He continued to massage her as he whispered into her hair. "_I wanna watch ya_."

"_Watch me what_?" she moaned.

"_Touch yourself_." He kissed her bare shoulder and tugged at her nipples.

Carol felt herself get wet…but Daryl wasn't waiting for an answer, he eased her off of his lap and pushed her down onto the bunk. The hunter stood on weak legs and stared down at her. His hands went to his belt as he worked to unfasten the buckle.

Carol's chest was heaving. This was all too much too soon…but she wanted it…_she wanted him_. While Daryl worked on his belt, she focused on getting her boots off and her pants down. She was struggling and Daryl moved to the edge of the bunk to help her. He leaned down, grabbing her boots and helping to pull them from her feet. She pushed the cargo pants down past her hips and Daryl clutched the fabric, yanking it the rest of the way down. She was lying in his bunk, in nothing more than a pair of cotton panties, and every last nerve ending was vibrating.

Daryl was standing again; he braced one hand on the top bunk while the other tugged at his zipper. Carol felt nervous, exposed and alive as she watched him. His eyes flicked to her panties and he nodded to her. "Take 'em off…._please_…" he added. "I jus' wanna see ya."

She swallowed hard and obeyed, her thumbs hooking into her panties as she slid them down her long legs and flicked them off the ends of her feet.

Daryl couldn't believe what he was seeing. Minutes ago, they'd just been two friends…cellmates talking…and now there was a naked woman lying in his bunk…her panties were on the floor. He could feel his cock dripping and he pulled his zipper down, freeing his hard-on. He wrapped his free hand around his member and kept a growl locked behind his lips. The hunter's feral eyes were trained on the woman in his bed.

Carol's heart seemed to skip a beat when she finally saw him. By the light of the lantern, she could make out the healthy size of his manhood.

_God…_

The thought of him inside her was enough to make Carol's walls open and her hand began sliding down her belly towards her core.

"_Fuck_…" Daryl growled, tugging at himself as he watched her.

Carol was on her back, her legs raised and bent at the knee. She kept her face turned towards him. With one finger, she slowly circled her clit, making her own hips buck weakly on the bed. "_Like this_?" she asked.

The hunter nodded. "_Keep goin'_…"

Her eyes were locked on his as she continued to circle her clit. She was using two fingers now, applying a gentle pressure to the aching nub of her sex. Each time she rubbed it, Carol gasped, and imagined that it was his fingers on her body. Sweat was breaking out on her skin and her hips were still bucking as she teased herself. She could feel moisture building between her legs.

Daryl's grip was tightening on the top bunk as he watched her. Her body was toned, lithe, and every little movement made him harder. Whenever she arched her back, he would let a hushed swear fall from his lips. He wanted to be the one making her hips buck and her back arch…he wanted to make those little gasps and pants come from her sweet mouth…but he couldn't deny the incredible pleasure of watching her. He'd never seen a woman do this he found that he liked it. He studied the way her fingertips circled her clit and he wondered what she must be feeling. "_That feel good_?" he asked between ragged breaths.

Carol was getting lost in lust and pleasure. She arched her back again and pressed down harder on her clit. "_Yes_," she groaned, her eyes closing for a moment. "_God…this is the only way I've ever been able to come_…_I need this_…" Her hips were still bucking as her hand moved faster.

Daryl stopped stroking himself and stared hard at the woman in his bunk. "_What_?"

Her eyes eased open and she looked up at him, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. "My husband…._he_" she tried to slow her breathing, but her body was vibrating with need. "He never satisfied me…"

The hunter gave himself one more good pull before he released the top bunk and crouched down until he was eye level with Carol. "Ya tryin' to tell me that asshole _never_ got ya off?" he asked.

Carol bit her lip and shook her head. "He wasn't the kind to worry about his partner…" her cheeks were flushed and her body was glistening with a fine sheen of sweat.

Daryl grunted as he climbed into his bunk and knelt at her feet.

"Daryl….what are…."

"_Relax_..." he said, his fingers curling around her shins so that he could push her legs further apart. He stared hard at her wet core and felt his heart rate increase. He kept one hand on her leg while the other returned to his swollen cock. His eyes flicked to her face. "_Keep goin'_." he growled softly.

Carol wasn't sure how much more she could take. The idea of him staring at her sex while she touched herself…it was making gooseflesh rise on her arms and legs. But she couldn't stop now…her body was desperate for release. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she continued to circle her clit.

The hunter was sliding his hand up and down his shaft as he watched her. Whenever she bucked her hips, he could see the wetness shining between her legs. She was working her body, teasing herself, building her own pleasure while he enjoyed the spectacle. Her breaths were getting shallow and her fingers were moving faster…he knew she must be nearing her edge but he wanted to be the one to get her there. Releasing himself, he crawled over her body, startling her.

Carol's eyes flew open and she stared at him. "Daryl?"

He kept his eyes locked on hers as one of his hands snaked down between them. He began toying with her sex, gently exploring the wetness he'd found.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her hips bucking weakly against his hand.

He smirked at her and ran one finger along her slit. "Ya shouldn't have to do all the work."

Her brows knit together. "I don't under…." but she never had a chance to finish the thought.

Daryl pushed his middle finger into her core without warning, taking the air from her lungs. Carol's entire body tensed and her walls slammed shut, trapping him inside her.

"_Christ_…" he snarled, feeling the way her muscles seized around his lone finger.

She clutched desperately at his shoulders and wished that he'd taken his clothes off.

Daryl could barely manipulate his finger insider her…she was so tight.

Carol could hardly process everything that she was feeling. Her body had locked up around him and she never wanted to let him go…her insides were clenching and squeezing him.

When Daryl felt that he could form a proper sentence, his eyes went to her face. "Guessin' it's been a while since ya had somethin' hard between your legs." he growled.

Carol felt more wetness hit her core and she rocked her hips, urging him to push in. "_Please_…" she whined…"_Touch me_."

The hunter clenched his teeth and forced his finger deep into her pussy, making her cry out. Her body began to adjust to the invasion and he was able to pull back and push in, creating a steady rhythm. She was bucking underneath him and he dipped his head, biting and sucking her neck. He loved being inside her…touching the deepest parts of her body that he knew no one had ever reached before. She was arching for him, _panting_, pulling at his hair…his _shirt_.

"_Yes_…." she breathed. "_Like that_..."

Daryl was curling his finger inside her, hitting a spot that seemed to make her shake. She opened her legs wider, giving him as much room as she could, and she bit her lip hard when he sank his finger deep into her sex. "_Please don't stop_…" she cried, arching for him.

He sucked her neck, loving the taste of her, and continued to push himself deeper into her center. Her insides were so soft and wet….he wanted to give her as much pleasure as she could stand. He pulled away from the warmth of her neck and stared at her as he thrust a second finger into her pussy. Carol moaned before tugging at his long hair and pulling his mouth to hers. Their lips met and it only served to heighten Carol's pleasure. The scent from his hair was all around her, _leather_, smoke and _gasoline_…and she felt as though his fingers couldn't go deep enough. Her body was hungry for him…for penetration and release. He was giving her everything she needed. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she let him into her mouth, moaning at the taste. His warm tongue moved past hers, exploring her mouth, and Carol bucked her hips. He was kissing her as if he wanted to devour her…he sucked her tongue, and felt her insides tremble around him. "_You're close_…" he growled against her lips.

She managed a nod. "_Keep touching me…please….It feels so good_…" She gave him a deep kiss, her tongue sliding against his, and then she pulled back, breathless. "_I'm almost there….please_…"

Daryl kept his eyes on hers as he slowly pulled his fingers back and then thrust them forward, making her body jerk.

"_Like that_!" she cried, her walls opening for him.

The hunter had no intention of stopping…not until she asked him to. He increased his speed, his two fingers slipping in and out of her pussy, working the muscles and making her wet. He seemed to push in deeper each time, the slickness easing his way. He wanted her to come. So he grunted, pushing harder, _faster_….hitting the spots that made her weak. "_C'mon Carol…fuckin' christ_.." he growled into her neck.

She opened her legs wider and pulled his hair as his fingers sank into her sex. "_Harder…I need more…_" she gasped.

Daryl ignored his own need as he pleasured the woman underneath him. She was so wet and he was slipping inside her so easily, she bucked her hips again and he pushed a third finger into her core, making her scream. But he could feel her walls trembling, her passage was getting too tight..._narrow_, and he had to force his fingers into the deepest parts of her. He was rubbing against her walls now, creating a friction that was making her back arch again..and again, and again…he pushed and pulled, playing in her sex and loving every sound she made in response.

"_Yes, please….oh, oh, oh, god….yes, more, harder…deeper, I need it…I need it Daryl…please_…" she was moaning and panting underneath him, her fingers tangled in his hair as her body went wild.

He was moving in and out so quickly now and her walls were closing around his fingers, but he had to keep going. He could feel the wetness seeping from her and he wanted to make her scream again. Her back arched, her hips bucked and she opened her legs, giving him everything and he thrust in hard, as deep as he could… She froze, her body going rigid around him as they stared at one another. He could see the incredible blend of pleasure and shock on her face as her core began to spasm. He kept his fingers buried inside her, enjoying the way her walls trembled. "_Keep…moving_…" she panted. And the hunter realized that it wasn't over. He continued working his fingers, pulling them back and forcing them further into her already quivering core. The faster he moved, the more her body shook and that's when he knew that she was riding out her orgasm. So he continued to play…to tease, exploring her pussy, thrusting in and out, faster and faster through her slickness until she screamed again and a flood of wetness hit his fingers. Her back was still arched and he'd slipped into the deepest part of her center. His eyes were locked on hers and he watched her face as the climax worked its way through her body…crippling her.

Carol's lips were parted as she savored the hardness filling her core. She rocked weakly against his fingers, wanting to keep him inside her forever. But as her body shook and throbbed, he slowly withdrew his fingers and she could feel wetness leaking from between her legs. Daryl eased back, sitting on his calves, and she forced herself to sit up. Her heart was beating uncontrollably and her breathing hadn't slowed. She glanced down at the mattress underneath her and could see the wet spot that she'd made. In all her life, Carol knew she'd never experienced an orgasm like that…ever. She was in a daze, her mind reeling with the pleasure he'd given her.

"How was that?" he asked, he had one hand on his cock and he'd begun to stroke himself again.

She was still working to catch her breath and she smirked at him. "That was…" she brought one hand up to cup her forehead. "I just….there are no words…"

He licked his lips and smirked back at her. "Bet ya can think of at least one…"

She was crawling towards him, her core still tingling with pleasure. "How about…amazing?" she pushed him onto his back and started working on the buttons of his shirt.

He chuckled. "That's a good one. Keep goin'."

She smiled down at him as her fingers made quick work of the buttons. "Delicious?"

Daryl reached for her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. "That works too."

When she finished with the buttons, he sat up, shrugging the shirt and vest off his shoulders and tossing them on the ground. "What else ya got?" he asked as he helped her get his pants down.

She was giggling as she worked the fabric down his legs. "Perfect?"

He kicked the pants off his feet and smirked at her. "Well alright then. Since I made ya come so hard, would ya mind doin' me a favor?"

"What's that?" she asked, smiling as she crawled over his body. She took a moment to lean down and catch his mouth with hers. They held the connection for several seconds and she bit his bottom lip softly, pulling at it while they stared at one another.

He gave her one more quick kiss and ran his hands up and down her sides. "Would ya mind takin' care of that for me?" He glanced down between them at his manhood.

Carol followed his gaze and felt herself get warm all over again. When she refocused on his face they were both smirking at one another. "I think I can give you a hand." she said, her voice hushed.

Daryl chuckled at that and enjoyed the view as she turned around and crawled away from him. He stared hard at her ass and hoped that he would have plenty of opportunities to touch it. When she was finally down between his legs, she stared up at him. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her. "You like to watch." she said, smirking at him.

He answered with a nod.

Carol smiled and took a moment to admire him. He was flushed with arousal, shocks of dark hair plastered to his temples, his body shone with sweat… She stared at his flat stomach, the trail of hair below his navel, and the hard shaft that was resting against his lower belly, waiting for her. She was tempted to grab him…to feel that solid length in her hand…but she made herself wait. Carol wanted to give him as much pleasure as he'd given her…if not more. So she knelt in the space between his legs and leaned forward, running her soft hands up his thighs, slowly. The contact made him shiver and he fell onto his back, groaning.

When her hands reached his hips, Carol massaged him, loving the way he bucked in response. She ran her hands up and down his thighs a few more times, her thumbs nearly brushing his manhood. He was muttering curses and growling out of frustration, his broad hands tangled in his own hair. Carol found that she liked watching him struggle…his lean, hard body twisting on the bunk while she teased him with light touches. She looked up and saw that his eyes were closed, his fingers still tugging at his dark hair. His hips bucked weakly and she knew that he wanted her to touch him. So she bent low over his groin, her warm breath hitting his cock as she whispered, "_Relax_…"

Daryl swallowed hard, his heart pounding and the muscles in his stomach tensing in anticipation. His eyes were slammed shut but he knew how close she was…he could feel her breath against his shaft…her mouth was so close and he just wanted her to make contact. He kept one hand in his hair while the other clutched at the flimsy mattress beneath him.

When Carol felt that he was ready, she flicked her tongue out against his cock. The motion was quick, simple, and she could taste the salt of his skin.

The hunter gasped, his hips jerking, but Carol had already pulled away. His blunt nails were digging into the mattress as he waited for her next move. She could see fresh sweat breaking out on his skin and she smirked, bending over him again. This time, she ran the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock, all the way to the head, and watched the thick shaft twitch in response. Daryl hissed. She simply smiled and repeated the action, running her tongue along his length several times until she could see her own salvia shining on him.

Daryl was suffering; he needed pressure. The gentle way that she licked him…it just wasn't enough, but he didn't have the words to tell her what he wanted.

But Carol knew. She just needed moisture. Now that his shaft was slick, she gripped the base firmly in her hand and squeezed. She continued to apply pressure as she moved her hand along his length and ran her thumb over the blunt head of his cock. Daryl's toes curled as he released a groan of satisfaction. "_You like that_?" she whispered, her hand moving back down, still squeezing him.

The hunter didn't know what to say…or how to say it. The reality of her touching him was so much better than his dreams. Her grip was firm and she held him with purpose; she wasn't afraid or timid. He supposed that the alcohol might have something to do with that, but he was too far gone to care. Daryl liked the fact that she was building him up slowly, making his spine tingle and his toes curl. Her soft hand felt so good wrapped around him and he loved the friction she was creating. Her palm slid up and down his length and she increased the pressure each time she reached the end of his member. He was throbbing and pulsing in her hand, his cock jerking and leaking…and it was then that Daryl realized what was about to happen. It wasn't a dream…the warmth and pressure around his dick was real…_she_ was real….and he was going to come in front of her. He'd always been so introverted, so ashamed when it came to physical release, and now he was lying naked in his bunk, his eyes closed and his chest heaving as he savored everything she did to him. She squeezed him tighter and Daryl whined. He knew that they shouldn't be doing this…they were too loud, someone could hear them…_catch_ them, but that didn't matter. His shyness and his guilt had been replaced with raw lust. For once, the hunter was giving in to every primal need…every animalistic urge coursing through his veins. He wanted to be touched, _teased_, licked and stroked. He wanted her to keep going.

Carol's hand was moving faster and he could hear the sexiest little gasps and moans escaping her each time she ran her thumb across the tip. Knowing that she was enjoying herself seemed to heighten Daryl's arousal and he bucked into her hand, swearing. But she held on, squeezing and massaging his shaft.

"_Tell me what you want_…" she breathed.

"_Fuck_!" he groaned, bucking again.

Her free hand gripped his thigh while she continued to stroke him. "_Tell me_…"

Daryl was panting, his fingers still digging into the mattress. "_M…more_…" he stammered.

Carol's core tightened when she heard that desperate plea fall from his lips. She couldn't believe that he was letting her touch him…that he was _asking_ her to touch him… She was still processing that fact that his fingers had been buried in her sex. But she wanted to please him any way that she could…to give him whatever he needed, and if he wanted more….she would give him more. Biting her bottom lip, she gripped him harder, causing drops of moisture to form at the tip of his cock.

"_Christ_!" he growled.

She increased her speed, working him up and down.

Daryl was quickly losing control. His body was trembling…he was covered in sweat and his hips were bucking in time with the motions of her hand. He was dimly aware of the bunk creaking under him…and a gentle pressure on his thigh where her free hand was resting, but what really mattered was the incredible friction…her hand against his skin, sliding up and down with ease… The hunter's entire body was gearing up for release and in that moment, there was nothing he wanted more. His eyes were still closed, and both of his hands were clawing at the mattress now…he could feel the flimsy sheet sticking to the sweat on his back.. Daryl's strong hips were bucking harder… "_Fuck_…" he moaned.

"_That's it_…." she panted, running her hand over the blunt head of his cock.

Daryl couldn't take much more. His mouth had gone dry and every last muscle was tensing. His heart threw itself mercilessly against his ribs while blood continued to rush to his manhood, making it swell in her hand. He was lost in her touch…in the sound of her labored breathing and her scent…it was all around him, flooding his mind and making the rest of the world fall away. All that remained was his crippling need and the warmth of her palm wrapped around his shaft. His legs were beginning to shake and he couldn't restrain the curses burning on his tongue. "_Fuck….shit…christ….god….damn…fuck_…." He threw his head back, groaning, and savored the way she squeezed him. Tangled up in lust, heat, pressure and friction, Daryl's fevered mind struggled to accept the fact that this woman was pleasuring him. She was making him feel things that he hadn't felt in years…with every stroke, every pull…she was bringing his body to life and driving him closer to the edge. Abandoning himself to the desire that was tearing through his body, the hunter finally let go.

She was flushed, panting, and her hand was moving rapidly up and down his dick. She was squeezing, tugging…doing everything she could to please him, and her lips parted when she felt his member jerking in her grasp.

Daryl was writhing on the bunk, his body glistening with sweat and she heard him growl as his cock went completely rigid…semen shooting from the tip. "_Fuck_!" he groaned. "_Don't stop_…"

Carol quickly resumed her task, stroking his member as fast as she could while he emptied his seed onto his belly.

"_Christ….fuck….jesus….godammit_!" He whined as he bucked into her hand, helping her milk him. Daryl was in a state of euphoria as his throbbing cock continued to spurt. He couldn't begin to describe the satisfaction that washed over him in that moment, as he released the tension that had been trapped inside him for so long. His manhood was aching, sore, sensitive in the aftermath of orgasm but he couldn't recall ever feeling so good. She gave him a final stroke, milking the last of his pleasure from him, before she finally pulled her hand away. The hunter was dizzy, disoriented as he lay sweating and panting in the small bunk. The sound of his breathing filled the cell and he waited for his heart to stop pounding. Blood flow was slowly returning to normal as Daryl came down from his incredible high. He gradually regained feeling in his limbs, and uncurled his stiff fingers, releasing the mattress. His head was still swimming when he finally propped himself up on his elbows and eased his eyes open. Daryl's vision was a bit blurry but he blinked a few times and was able to make out Carol's form in the soft glow of their cell. She was still kneeling between his legs, her hands resting on her thighs as she stared at him.

He studied her…the flush on her cheeks, the smile on her lips, and those bright eyes that had become such a distraction lately.

"Well…" she started to speak, "How was…." but he didn't let her finish.

Daryl didn't care about the mess he'd made, or the fact that he was covered in sweat…he needed to be close to her. The moment she opened her mouth to speak, he sat up, leaned forward and caught her mouth with his. Their lips connected and she let him kiss her. Despite his release, there was a definite urgency in the way he kissed her…his lips pressing into hers, his tongue sinking quickly into her mouth, making her gasp. His hands were gently holding her face, keeping her close. The longer they held the connection, the better it felt. They were each memorizing the way the other tasted. His tongue traced her bottom lip before he pulled back, staring at her. His hands were still holding her, his thumbs softly stroking the shocks of hair near her ears. "_Ain't nobody ever made me feel like that_…" he whispered.

She felt warmth spreading through her body and she smiled at him. "_I'm happy to do it…anytime_." Carol leaned in, kissing his jaw.

He eased back carefully so that he could meet her gaze. "_Ya mean it_?" he asked, his words hushed.

Her blue eyes were locked on his as she reached up and pushed the damp hair back from his brow. "_I do_."

Daryl swallowed hard and ran one calloused thumb along her jaw line. "_Ya ain't gotta do me any favors_…"

She laughed lightly, combing her fingers through his hair. "_Don't think of it as a favor…just_…" she bit her lip, searching for the right words…it was proving difficult since Carol's mind and body were still recovering from the orgasm he'd given her. "_Think of it as stress relief_."

Daryl smirked, a small chuckle escaping him. "That right?" he asked.

She gave him a quick kiss and nodded, her fingers still raking through his hair. "Or a sleep aid."

The hunter snorted, shaking his head. "Right."

Carol smirked at him, leaning in so that her forehead was resting against his. "Call it what you want…but the bottom line is….it's healthy, it's _fun_, and it's mutually beneficial…as far as I can tell." she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled gently.

Daryl growled when she released his him. "Guess ya got it all figured out then?" His eyes were on her mouth.

She smirked at him again. "I just know a good thing when I see it."

The hunter nuzzled her hair, pulling the soft scent into his lungs. "It _was_ good, wasn't it." He let himself smile.

Carol chuckled, her fingers rubbing the muscles in his neck. "Yes…and it'll be even better next time."

He pulled back, looking at her. "Ya think?"

She nodded. "Maybe…" she bit her lip as a blush spread across her cheeks. "You could use something other than your fingers."

Daryl was smirking at her. "Well maybe you can use somethin' other than your hand."

They both chuckled at that. He dipped his head, kissing her shoulder. "I best clean this up." He eased back and glanced down at the mess he'd made of himself. He moved to slide off the bunk but Carol stopped him.

"You sit tight…I got it." She rose, walking across the cell.

He eyed her naked frame and thought about all the things he wanted to do to her…and that he wanted her to do to him. He still couldn't believe what had taken place between them.

She knelt near her pile of belonging and rifled through a small bag before she found a clean cloth. She was a bit unsteady on her feet, and Daryl could see that the bourbon was taking its toll on her. Carol sank bank into the bunk, handing him the rag. He took the offering and quickly wiped the mess off his belly. "Thanks" he growled softly as he leaned over and hid the rag under the bunk.

She smiled at him. "Don't mention it." She was sitting on the edge of the bunk and she looked down, noticing the bottle they'd left on the floor. She reached for it and took a quick pull. "Doesn't even burn anymore." she laughed.

Daryl moved so that he was sitting next to her; he took the bottle and brought it to his lips, savoring the taste of the liquor. The two survivors sat in comfortable silence, their shoulders and hips brushing. Suddenly, Carol released a happy sigh and shook her head.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"Nothing…it's just…." she glanced at him and then the bottle he held. "This is how we got into this mess in the first place." she chuckled.

The hunter snorted, a faint smile on his lips. "Guess you're right. Whatever this is…" he scuffed his foot on the floor. "I think it looks real good on us."

She felt herself blush. "Well it definitely feels good."

They smirked at one another and Carol leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. "I think I'm gonna call it a night." she whispered against his lips.

Daryl's lids were heavy as he stared at her. He set the bottle on the floor and ran his broad hands up and down her arms. "_It really was good_." he growled softly.

She smiled at him. "I know." With that she rose from the bunk and walked to the end table. She turned the small knob on the gas lamp until the cell was blanketed in darkness. "Night." she whispered before moving towards the bunk and gripping the ladder. The first rung creaked beneath her foot but then something stopped her.

"Carol.." he called to her.

"What?"

The hunter swallowed hard, and gripped the edge of the bunk. "Ya ain't gotta stay up there…if ya don't wanna."

She paused and considered his words. A smile was spreading across her face. "Is that an invitation?" she couldn't help but think back to the first exchange they'd had when he moved into the cell.

"Guess it is." he said.

As she stood on that ladder, smiling in the dark, Carol felt a sudden rush of excitement coursing through her. She didn't know why, and she wasn't in any state to question it…but she felt good, happy, and she carefully stepped down onto the cold floor.

Daryl was waiting anxiously on the bottom bunk, his thumbnail caught between his teeth. When she finally moved to crawl in with him, he fumbled, grabbing her and pulling her down. They were both laughing as they struggled to find their way under the sheet. He reached for her waist and used his grip to pull her body against his. The laughter began to die down as they lay in the dark, chest to chest, sharing his pillow. Daryl ran his hand along her side, memorizing her curves and she inched even closer to him, her fingers threading in his hair. They laid in that bunk, unsure of what to say or do, but it didn't matter. They were together. They'd found comfort and warmth in one another, and they were reluctant to let it go.

Daryl listened to the soft sound of her breathing and they held each other's gazes, neither of them wanting to look away… His body was still thrumming with the bliss of climax and he loved the way her skin felt under his palm. His legs were tangled with hers and the thin sheet was draped over their bodies. The hunter was in awe. He'd never made a habit of sharing his bed, but being there…with _her_…it felt good, _right_. She was so close…her soft skin against his and her scent all around him. He snaked an arm around her waist, making sure her body was flush with his, and she gently cupped the side of his face. They stayed like that for the longest time…smiling in the dark and staring at one another. Daryl and Carol didn't know what the morning had in store for them, but for the moment…they had each other, and that was enough.

**I hope you had fun with this! If you did, please leave me a juicy review; it'll make my day! Thanks for reading ; )**

**-Sami**


End file.
